Wonderboy
by redtiger
Summary: SEQUEL UP!PreHPBWe all know the Golden Trio and their lives in Gryffindor but what about those slytherins? Surely, Draco wasn't alone. A story of one of slytherin's own and the chain of events that caused her to fall into the same world as the boy wonder
1. Life of the Slytherin SmartAss

Disclaimer:All you recognize isn't mine!

Author's Note: Very Important, this takes place in the Hogwarts world before HBP. The release of the book hit me right in the middle of my plot, so kinda got caught in a pickle. Anyway, hope you allenjoy yourselves. Please be patient with the first chapter because like many, it only gets the ball rolling and not much else.

Chapter One: Life of the Slytherin Smart-Ass

Someone lit up the dormroom and rolled over angrily. I know appearances are important but couldn't they start at a decent hour. "Wake up, Marlow!" Pansy Parkinson shouted from the bathroom.

"Isn't it still break?"

"McGonagall will slaughter you if you sleep through her class again."

"Fine, fine," I grumbled throwing my covers back and swinging my legs to the floor. "Oh you bitch, Pansy, you know we have Snape today."

"Had to get you up somehow."

I glanced into the bathroom. My roommates were crammed in that tiny space trying to do their makeup as fast as they could because let's face it, they use a lot of make up. I ran a hand through my long dark and hideously tangledtressesbefore Iwalked over to them.

"Oh my god, Daphne," I said with a fake gasp. "What happened to you? I thought you said you watched your weight over Christmas vacation!"

"What!" she screeched and ran to check the full length mirror, allowing me the space to grab my hair brush and makeup. "Do I really look fat?"

"No, no, it was just the angle." Daphne Greengrass cared more about her looks than any other girl in slytherin house. Understandable because that girl wasn't going to get anywhere on brains alone.

"How was your vacation, Moon?" I called as I whipped the brush through my hair.

"Stayed here," she replied. "Have to stay on top of my quidditch skills."

"Sure," Pansy replied. "You're messing around with that captain from Ravenclaw aren't you? Nick Bradley?"

"No comment." Morgan Moon was a chaser on the house team, the second female player since Morgana Montague three years ago. Her family would kill her if she ever even tried for the pros, her family has been lawyers since the beginning of time, even the girls no way Moon could ever end that.

"What about you, Marlow?" Pansy asked. "Anything exciting happened with you over vacation?"

"Just spent some quality time with good ol' dad," I said fumbling for my cigarettes. I don't much want to talk about what happened with my father and vacation. It will be in the papers later. I like many, come from a family of recognition. Gryffindors would call it a family of deatheaters but they like to distort reality, in my opinion.

"Oh so you spent time with Draco?" Pansy continued. Despite what you may think and those gryffindors might have narrated, Draco and Pansy are far from an item. Nor is Pansy stupid. She isn't the next Hermione Granger but she is certainly savvy. Pining after Draco seemed to be a good plan until she was introduced to other offspring of powerful people.

"No, I spent time with my father and his father in meetings." Then there is me: Alexandra Marlow,but if anyone called me by my full name except my father's lawyers it would feel awkward and wrong. Daddy Dearest is right up there with other seniorfather figures such as Nott, Avery, Malfoy and what have you. But that is all trivial, and irritating. All that really matters at the moment is that I am a nicotine addict who isn't cosmetically gifted nor savvy and I am in no hurry to get to Potions.

Puffing on a cigarette, I left my dorm with my books slung over my shoulder lazily. "Xan, do you go anywhere without your fucking fags?" I didn't need to look up to know who it was. One of the only tall, dark and undeservingly smug slytherin who likes using first names; yes, that includes the horrendous shortening of my legal name bestowed in first year. One would think only 'alex' would come out of Alexandra but oh no, there are far more ugly combinations once you start skipping syllables.

"I, unlike you Blaise, am not looking forward to seeing gryffindors for first period. I need the nicotine to sooth me."

Blaise Zabini came over and walked beside me. "You know, I did nothing but wank off to the thought of the Granger girl all vacation."

I gave him a long-sided glance. Why me? Why does he always tell me and only me these things? Well probably because I just happen to be enjoy getting people to tell me things but it isn't exactly an on-off gift. "The day you actually score with one of the golden trio is the day I pay you a thousand galleons." Okay, so perhaps I am flattering myself a bit too much, but who is there to stop me?

"Is that a promise?"

"You're dreams never cease to entertain me," I replied with a snarky grin.

We exited the portal and found two other slytherins in the hallway. "Oi, Draco, Theo!" Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott spun around. Ah, the four are reunited again. I cannot think of a single teacher that doesn't loathe having the royalty of slytherin in their classes. Certainly other slytherin families were well known but between the four of us, Malfoy, Nott Zabini and Marlow nothing was sacred. Hah, but that is of course if you pay attention to social structures in the wizarding world. Those who don't (nearly everyone but professors) see all slytherins as members of Draco Malfoy's posse. And doesn't he just love the attention.

"How was your vacation?" I asked.

"Fucking Potter," Draco said. Oh god, not another Potter rant. Oh well guess it is the swing of the new year. "After his oh-so fucking publicized efforts and convictions about the Dark Lord, Aurors are the new fucking police! My father wouldn't get off the subject for a second.

"Ah the price of power," I said cheekily exhaling over my shoulder. "Don't worry too much, Malfoy. Potter can't be perfect at everything at the same time."

He shot me a look, "Do you know something, Marlow?"

I smirked, "Don't I always know something, Draco?"

"Don't be a bitch, Marlow," Theo said.

"Well, _Teddy,_" I said, it was my personal way of keeping that boy's ego in line, "apparently Ginny Weasley is single again and for one short reason."

Draco's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Mhm," I nudged my hips back and forth. "Apparently . . . Potter hasn't figured out how to make motion in the ocean." Actually, I made that up off ofthe general knowledge that the gryffindor couple split up. But who the fuck cares, it made the morning more interesting.

"Call me an optimist," Blaise said clasping his hands behind his head. "But I can't see Potter being that bad in bed. It seems like all he has to do is lie there while the girls do it for him."

"No, no, you're confusing him with Draco."

"Oh yes but who was your source?"

The other two got a bit irritated at our playful exchange but I paid them no mind. "One of Baddock's ex-girls is roommates with the Weasley girls."

"How did you get her to talk to you?" Theo said shaking his head. "You think people would have figured out who you were by now. Are gryffindors daft or something?"

"Of course they are. We are just Malfoy's posse, don't you know? Besides, I had but to show her Baddock making out with another girl and the information was flowing." Another tiny rearrangement of words but it's more digestable now.

"This is a brilliant way to start out the day," Draco said, looking off into space and undoubtably imagining Potter's penis in comparison to his own.

"When did you start getting cozy with Baddock?" Theo asked.

"Teddy, everyone is cozy with Baddock, it just comes down to knowing how to talk to him." Actually, I have been cozy with Baddock since birth. He is one of those astranged third-cousins who you pretend isn't your cousin in case you have to marry them.

"True, he is a bit of a man-slut."

"He is worse than Zabini."

"Hey!" Blaise was about to get a word in when he caught sight of Hermione Granger unconsciously crossing are paths.

"Bloody slag," Theo muttered.

"We have an unofficial bet of a thousand galleons if he can sleep with her," I said taking another drag of my cigarette. "At least he gets laid."

"You know, Goyle is always available."

"Disgusting!" I exclaimed at the wretched image. "Fuck, Teddy, I was talking about you."

"Do you think Zabini would mind if I hassled the mudblood a bit?" Draco thought out loud, bringing his faithful foot soldiers to their attention.

"Does it matter?"I asked. "Since when do you listen to us?" he threw me a glare and I grinned.

"Why 'allo Hermione," Zabini saidwalking suggestively close to herjust as she entered the great hall. Gotta give him points for timing even if he is taking a page out of Malcolm Baddocks book (not a bestseller mind you).

"Zabini!" she screeched in surprise. "I thought I told you to leave me alone you!"

"But darling," he said jerking back in fake hurt. "After last night I thought we were on first names."

She went beet red and I couldn't help but snicker.Oh this was going to be an entertaining semester. She ran back into the corridor to avoid the gaze of all the students and right past me. I stuck my foot out just in time to trip her.

"Oh Granger are we really such poor company?" I asked. Sure, I sound like a bitch right now but this is the first time I have actually talked to Hermione Granger. Sure, I knew pretty much everything about her via my grapevine (perfection is my goal in life) but she apparently had no idea who I was and – I don't even want talk about what happened on the train ride here from the holiday vacation.

She and Draco exchanged some nasty words but from a bystander's perspective-- repressed sexual energy. Of course, he wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of me if I said it to his face. Believe you me. Anyway, before anything exciting could happen, Wonderboy and the Weasley is our King (aka ron, I enjoy referring to him as ronaldo don't ask why) showed up.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Wonderboy shouted getting all worked up and shoving Draco away from Granger. I moved to the side so they could have access to the wall. Wonderboy, in case the nickname doesn't make sense, is the Harry Potter, my primary headache nearly every time I spend more than two seconds with my father. Earlier in the year he had an encounter with the Dark Lord and was now seen as a hero by all and a future head auror.

Note the sarcasm. I hate aurors and Harry Potter.

I hate aurors because of recent developments and by association, I am prone to disliking Harry Potter and if you so much speak a good word about him in Slytherin House you will be crucified, no joke, it happened to someone from that ridiculous DA.

Potter had Draco up against the wall and – ouch spit in the eye, point for Malfoy! Anyway it was about time to intervene before no one got any food whatsoever and living off nicotine is painful. I signaled for Blaise to get Granger, Teddy to get Potter and I would handle the talking. I enjoyed handling the talking because Draco is a bit of a repressive dictator.

I blew smoke in between causing Potter to move back and cough. "Boys, boys, boys, couldn't this wait for a more appropriate time, place and provocation? Granger isn't heardly worth killing eachother over."

I had a fist holding my collar and _I _was now the one up against the wall. God, fucking rash gryffindors. While I took it in a stride, one of my finer qualities, that and lying through my teeth.

"What did you say about, Hermione?" he snarled.

"It isn't like I called her a mudblood or anything," ouch the collar grip tightened. I glanced back, what loyal friends I have. They are taunting Weasley while I have to slither my way out of this mess.

"Then what did you say?"

"I am just saying that I have a betting pool going and killing eachother, here, now and over Granger isn't good for me." He gave me a look of pure hate and I just put on my best slytherin innocence.

"What are you picking on girls now, Potter?" Draco said about ten times too loudly. I glanced about and yes, there were indeed questioning students everywhere. "You throw Marlow up against a wall, what other slytherin girl is next on your agenda of assault?"

Potter backed off and I rubbed my neck. Fuck that kind of hurt. "Marlow?" Obviously, he wasn't familiar but who expected the Boy Who Lived to know the names of random slytherin girls?

"Marlow, at your service," I said taking a drag of my cigarette. "Come on guys. Draco, thanks your antics I bet there are no sausages left." We left the gryffindors stranded in the corridor, responsible for answering questions. Sure they would say we insulted them and blah blah blah, but everyone listens to Wonderboy anyway so why bother? I wanted some ruddyfood.

* * *

"I hope Snape doesn't continue this ridiculous idea of interhouse-pairings," Draco complained on the way to potions.

"You're just sour because you got that Brown girl and couldn't get into her pants," Blaise said. "I on the other hand was with that um... vicky girl. She was certainly worth the extra hours if you know what I mean."

"Do you think about anything but sex?" I asked bluntly.

"Oh come on, Xan, don't tell me you're a celebate!"

"Hardly, but the constant commentary on your neverending hard-on is a bit too much."

He muttered something about 'Marlow in need of a good lay' but I take him about as seriously as I take Braddock but that is with his shirt on, with it off he is notoriously persuasive. At least I keep my clothes on and remain persuasive.

"Ah if it isn't my favorite students," professor Snape said, ushering us into class. I liked Snape for all the wrong reasons. I should like him because if I wanted to I could do nothing, blame everything on Longbottom and still pass but my father was close friends with Snape and he is guardian of large portions of my financial and business estate.

"Class has begun!" he shouted. We were being placed in partners again for some potion in our books. I wasn't exactly listening, it was still early and all the sausages were gone.

"Malfoy-Nott!"

"Baddock-Brown!"

"Oh that should be interesting," I whispered to Draco. He seemed pretty happy with his group."

"Marlow-Weasley!"

"Bugger!" All eyes turned to Ronaldo. Glad to see I am well liked.

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. Why Everyone Hates Slytherins

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize

Author's note: Yay thank you for the reviews!

Chapter Two: Why Everyone Hates Slytherins

"You're late," I drawled as Ronaldo _finally_ entered the library. Fuck, I have been sitting here for what – fifteen minutes! He was going to pay for wasting my time.

"Miss Marlow what have I told you about smoking in the library?" Madame Pince shrieked at woman. Ugh, I quickly put out my dying fag on the carpet only to receive another shriek. "Not on the carpet! What have I told you! Oh I should throw you out of here!"

"Madame," I called. "I am sure you don't want me to fail potions because another teacher refused to give me the resources for my education."

She muttered something about rich, slytherin smart aleck but I shrugged it off.

Ronaldo sat down practically tossing his books my way. "Excuse me, but where were you?" I began absentmindedly twiddling a lock of hair in between my fingers. "Perhaps sweeping Granger off her feet? Or what about that other girl, hm, Lovegood was it? Oh and how is your sister dealing with single life?"

"No!" he said hotly. "Hermione's too pissed off with men right now."

"Oh dear why?"

"Ugh, who knows?" he covered his face with his hands.

"Pride isn't it?" I said playing therapist, because let's face it, everyone loves sincerity and once you fake that you have it made. Oh jeez I feel like a predator, feeding off the weak and vulnerable for rather pointless knowledge.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Did she have a crush on Potter?"

He stared at me and I thought 'oh great he broke the trance oh well it is a matter of time' but know. This was the day I discover Weasley is daft because he said . . ."Do you really think so?"

"You tell me," I tried not to snicker.

"I've never really thought about it."

"Anyway," I said, opening my potions book, this had to get done sometime. "So about the potions assignment –"

"Oh my god."

"Huh?" I looked up at him.

Ronaldo was staring at me flabbergasted. "Oh my god!" he stood up and repeated the outburst slamming his fists on the table.

"Mr. Weasley!" he forget my number one (okay maybe second or third) rule; always listen. So he went on ranting.

"You just raped my mind!" he shouted at me.

"What?" this was certainly the most creative thing I've heard in a while.

"Hermione told me about you! Marlow! You just raped information from me! Oh my god!" I was just staring at him wondering what the fuck was going on.

"Mr. Weasley that is enough!" Madame Pince threw him out and gave me a dirty look.

"What no cigarettes!" I said throwing my hands up. "Besides you know how gryffindors are."

"Yes, I do."

I decided it was probably best to actually try and do the potions homework but I see the powers that be had other plans. Harry Potter came storming into the library moments later.

"Who do you think you are?" he shouted at me.

"Well last time I checked I was a Marlow, in slytherin, a girl, why do you ask?"

I think I saw steam come out of his ears. "What did you do to Ron?"

"Mr. Potter don't shout!" again, Wonderboy like Ronaldo ignored the rule.

"I didn't do anything to Ronaldo, it isn't like he told me your password. Which I already know."

"So what did he tell you?"

"Ah, that information will cost you," I said with a cheeky grin. "And running in here shouting at me when you don't even remember my name isn't getting you very far."

"Mr. Potter I will have to ask you to leave!"

"Oh and tell Ronaldo to meet me here same time tomorrow," I called.

"Sod off!"

"Language, Mr. Potter!"

I shrugged my shoulders and put my hands behind my head. "Madame Pince I wouldn't worry about it, everyone hates slytherins."

I did some work for about a half and hour then said fuck it, the rest is for Ronaldo. I left the library but on the stairs someone shouted my name. I turned around and saw Pansy coming towards me.

"Is Draco dating anyone?"

"What will you give me if I tell you?"

"A makeover."

I laughed, "Do you really think I need it?"

"You look like a goblin."

"Well apparently I'm a rapist too. I mind raped Weasley in the library."

"How did it feel?"

"Oh my god, Pansy."

"So do we have a deal on the makeover or not?"

"To be executed at my discretion."

"Alright."

"Deal."

"Well is he single or not?"

"He is stag and in playboy mode." you might wonder how I know this. Well at lunch I was helping some slytherin boys with a list of girls who were bangable. We do it every term and we see which guy nails the most girls or which girl is easiest, lots of betting happens and they couldn't do it without the brain.

"Wonderful." she skipped off.

I continued to walk down to the dungeons when I spotted someone. Someone rather special to me in a twisted sort of way. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the little muggleborn himself. Not that I pester him about it too much (unlike Draco and Granger) but he is my favorite hufflepuff.

"Why Justin, what are you doing down here?" I asked smoothly walking up to him.

He spun around and he got that look on his face when you see the person you didn't know you were looking for. "Hello Xan."

"Looking for me by any chance?"

"Y-yes," he said nervously.

"Why?"

"I didn't um, get to see you before vacation. I wanted to know how you were?"

I smirked, he was so . . . innocent? No. . . something else oh well. I am taller than he is by just a bit or at least I present taller. I continued to walk towards him pushing him up against the dungeons wall and began to kiss him. Damn that felt good.

He kissed back which is what I love about my little hufflepuff masochist. I had a fucking terrible vacation and I am sure Justin could sense that because I was kissing him so bloody hard. I hard someone coming so I shoved him behind a suit of armor fixtures (we have those down here) and whipped my mouth free of spit and fumbled for a cigarette as a cover.

"What are you doing, Marlow?" I looked up and saw Teddy and Draco walking towards me, along with the brutes (crabbe and goyle, brutes for hirer by the way, we all use them) who appeared to be dragging someone.

"Smoking, you?"

"Oh," Draco looked a little too pleased with himself. "We found a little spy lurking around the dungeons."

"What?" I asked flately.

"Weasley," he and the brutes brought forth a silenced Ronaldo.

"Oh jesus," I undid the spell and heard Ronaldo out.

"Bloody hell, Marlow! I was just trying to get the fucking potions work! Fuck get these slobs off me!"

I rolled my eyes and motioned for the brutes to let him go. "He is my potions partner, you can't sodomize him yet, Draco."

"Mph fine, wait what!"

I chuckled and watched him get all red in the face. Weasley laughed. "The joke wasn't for you Ronaldo."

"Ronaldo? What?" he looked at me and I didn't look back.

"Well, Teddy, Draco," I said, "move along now, it isn't like I'm taking Weasley here into the common room we just need to chat." I glanced over to where I had hid Justin. He is good friends with gryffindors, I bet he is sweating like a nervous wreck. My slytherin brothers left and faced Ronaldo.

"What is so important that you ventured into enemy territory?" I asked.

"You took all the potions work."

"You left it there after you ran out screaming rape and had Potter come defend you."

"Harry doesn't defend me!" he shouted. His voice echoed and I think I have found Weasley's soft spot. "I came down here on my own!"

"Fine, fine, fine," I said. "Meet me tomorrow in the library same time and we'll finish the paperwork."

"But I have quidditch practice."

"Ravenclaw takes the pitch after you, you will meet me on time."

"Fine," Ronaldo said and he stormed away.

"Oh and Ronaldo," I shouted. He turned and gave me this look like what-the-hell-are-you-calling-me. "I wouldn't come down here if I were you. You're not savvy enough." he just stormed off.

I pulled Justin out from hiding. "Now where were we?"

I was pissed, no I was beyond pissed I was infuriated and infuriated along with other extreme emotions does not look good on me. I had been stood up! Bloody Weasley had stood me up! I was going down to the pitch as we speak, well not the pitch gryffindor locker room and I was going to drag Weasley out by the hair because NO ONE stands up Xan Marlow.

When I got there it was evident that their practice had been long over. I walked up the steps to the locker rooms and I could already see red hair. I leaned against the doorway and watched Ronaldo take his time searching for his clothes. He was in a towel and didn't look terribly impressive muscle wise. Justin could beat him and that is a sad fact.

"I wonder what was is so bloody important about those pants, Weasley."

He spun around and was obviously shocked. He started gaping like a fish and flailing around, shouting and what not and the next thing I know, I am staring at a natural redhead.

After the initial shock, I took it in a stride and watched him get redder than communist china. I lit up a cigarette and began explaining to him. "Weasley, I don't know who you think you are dealing with but you are not taking this assignment seriously." he reached for his pants but I accio-ed them towards me. People are most vulnerable when they are naked. "Weasley, you aren't listening. You start taking this seriously, or I am going to arrange for a little tap-dance on your face. Is that clear? I –"

Suddenly I was struck with some sort up hex and thrown out of the locker rooms all the way out onto the dark grass. Fuck that hurt! And I lost my cigarette. Fuck!

"Who do you think you are? You slimy slytherin slag!" ooh creative. I got to my feet and calmly dusted myself off. Potter came storming out towards me. "You think you can just come in here and start harassing Ron? No, who you are but –"

"That's right you don't know who I am, Potter," I said, extending my own wand. "You should do your homework potter because I will bury you if you keep interfering with the simplest of affaires."

That was when he turned my hair red. Weasley red. That mother fucking muggle-lover. This war. He when back into the lockerroom and locked the door and I stared at a lock of my hair. "I can't believe this."

So like the clever genius I am, I decided to use this little disguise to my advantage. I saw the infamous photographer Colin Creevey taking shots of the ravenclaw practice and I approached him.

"Hi, um, Colin, right?" I asked using my best gryffindor voice.

"Oh hi," he said blushing a little. This boy was obviously still a virgin.

"I know this is weird but, you know Harry Potter right?"

"Yes," he said puffing his chest out a bit. "We are good friends."

"So you must see him in the dorms right? I mean when no one else does. I was wondering, if I paid you some galleons, could you take pictures of him for me?"

"Why not just ask him, he is coming out of the lockerrooms any minute."

"No I don't want those types of photos everyone has those. I mean the hard shots that no one ever sees. Him singing the shower, doing crazy things, being silly you know, the really harry potter. You are the only one I can think of with the skills to really capture that. I would give you anything you asked for a whole roll of them."

"I-I-I would love to do that," he stuttered amazed that some girl thought he was cool. "For like, ten galleons or so?"

"Deal. When do you think you'll have them by?"

"Um. . . day after tomorrow?"

"Perfect," I gave him a kiss on the cheek then walked away.

This is war Potter and I will bury you.

Author's Note: well there is chapter two! A little warfare going on here and I bet the whole Justin affaire was a bit of a surprise. Anyway, I hope you liked it and I appreciate feedback!


	3. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Redhead

Disclaimer: Only Xan and her family are mine.

Author's Note: Wow. Thank you so much for the reviews it means a lot to me to know people like what I write! Motivational too. Anyway, I hope you notice later in the chapter that Ron isn't out of character he is just trying to get out of Harry's shadow.

Chapter Three: Hell Hath No Fury Like That of a Redhead

I woke up the next morning to a sharp blow in the back. "Daphne! Help me! There's a gryffindor here!" Pansy yelled and then I was hit again with a book.

"Fuck!" I shouted, jerking and rolling over.

Just as Pansy was about to smash me again with her transfiguration book, she stopped. "Oh my god, Xan! What happened to your hair?" she nearly screamed.

"Ow," I muttered sitting up. "You owe me for that Pansy."

"What happened to your hair?" Morgan shrieked dropping her own weapon.

"What you don't like it?" I said taking a lock into my fingers and twirling.

"It's-it's," Daphne was trying to say something. "Different."

"There are no redheads in slytherin house," Morgan said quite rightly. "And you've never dyed your hair."

I shrugged. Pansy started to get dressed. "This doesn't make you look less like a goblin, Marlow."

"Why thank you Parkinson," I said flatly. God, Potter was going to so pay for this embarrassment. This was going to get me attention and the last thing I want or need in order to maintain my illusive way, is to NOT GAIN ATTENTION! Ugh, my ass still hurts from yesterday.

However, despite my displeasure, I got dressed, went downstairs and pretended like everything was peachy. "Marlow," Draco said coming up to me. "You do know your hair is red when it was black yesterday."

"Glad to see you know your colors."

"Well is there an explanation or something?" he asked looking from side to side as I walked with the guys to breakfast. With these flaming red locks I was like fire in fog.

"I think it is fitting," Blaise said, playing with my hair. "They say hell hath no fury like that of a redhead."

"True, Marlow is kind of a bitch." I grinded Teddy's foot into the stone for that remark.

"Why though?" Draco said, scrunching up his face.

I smirked. "What you don't like it, Draco?" I faked hurt.

He scowled, "Don't do that."

"Yeah it is just a tad bit too convincing," Blaise said.

I rolled my eyes. We walked into the great hall and I glanced over to the Gryffindor table. They all looked just a bit too pleased with themselves and suddenly Teddy asked. "Did someone hex you?"

"What gave you that idea?" I replied coolly. It is bad to reply quickly because the questioner knows you hit a nerve.

"Well the gryffindors –"

"I got Weasley naked yesterday," I cut him off.

"What!" they shouted.

"He's a natural redhead," I smirked.

"Ew," Draco said. "Are you that desperate for a piece of arse, Marlow. Go after a Weasley."

"I had to chase him down for that potions project."

"ah, ha,"

I watched Teddy glare at the gyffindors. Blaise spread his first two fingers in front of his mouth and darted his tongue between them as he looked at Hermione. Harry Potter gave me a grin of triumph and I got him off guard with a smirk. I made sure to walk behind Blaise when we passed Colin Creevey.

"So Theo," Blaise began as we sat down. "Dating anyone?"

"Me date?" he sounded offended.

"He couldn't snag a decent date if he tried," I said taking a sip of my pumpkin juice.

"Hey!" Teddy shouted, double offended. "You, Marlow are the one with that red mop who couldn't get a guy to save your soul!"

"Is that a challenge, Teddy? I hope not because I could kick your ass."

"I have ten galleons on Nott," Draco said serving himself some eggs.

"I dunno," Blaise said stroking his stubble. "Hell hath no fury like Xan Marlow . . . I'm in. ten galleons on Marlow."

"Fine," I said as the post came. "When's the next ball?"

"Five weeks," Blaise answered automatically. I swear he counts the days.

"So how are we going to go about this Marlow? Fairly."

"Fairly? What house are you in?" I asked with a laugh. "Let's see, you have to go to the ball with someone well known from a different house."

"What do you mean well known?" he asked hotly. Teddy was always one for competition, like Draco.

"I mean you bringing Cho Chang to the ball."

"That's too easy," Blaise said with a bit of a humph.

"Well aren't you just Mr. Casanova," Teddy growled.

"You have to date for a week after with a public asking."

Draco was grinning evilly. "This will be tough for you Marlow."

"Oh I don't think so," I said smirking at him. "I think we need some more qualifications. Teddy you have to kiss them in public three times, different days, and hold hands in hogsmeade that Sunday."

"Same rules for you Marlow," he snapped.

I smirked, thinking of how easy this was going to be. "No problem."

"I'll raise you twenty galleons, Draco," Blaise said winking at me.

Draco snorted. "My pocketbook isn't thin. Deal."

"And what do you I get if I win?" Teddy asked glaring at me while munching on a piece of toast.

"What do you want?"

"An event of public humiliation."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We can work on it."

"No let's settle it now."

"Fine, you have to proclaim your love for Harry Potter and flash him."

"Sounds good. You have to do the same, showing him your family jewels."

"What!"

"We all know you're a poof," Blaise said, laughing.

"Deal now let's finish breakfast," I said.

"Hey Marlow," Draco said, opening up his copy of the Daily Prophet. "I think this article is about your father."

"What?" I leaned over sharply and knocked his goblet over. It was completely full of pumpkin juice and spilled all over the paper, making the article completely illegible.

"Fuck, Marlow!" Draco shouted.

"Oh sorry," I said sitting back down. I was far from sorry though.

Later that day, after lunch, I ran into Colin Creevey, or more accurately I found him. He did have the pictures, a day in advance and I paid him. "What is your name?" he asked, blushing. Oh god I hoped he wasn't going to ask me out or anything like that.

"Alexandra," I said calmly.

"Nice to m-meet you Alex," he said, assuming the wrong nickname.

"Pleasure," I said then walked away and opened up the envelope.

Oh these were the definition of perfect. Harry Potter in a pillow fight with Ron Weasley, Harry Potter in his briefs grooming his chest hairs, Harry Potter getting yelled at by his quidditch captain, Granger touching up a wound of his and looking awfully cozy about it, Potter holding his crotch after a blow in quidditch, stealing a glance at his fellow teammates in the locker room and the list of perfection went on.

I walked into the common room after classes and on the way I found Baddock departing from another conquest. "Marlow!" he said as though seeing me entertained him. "What is new? Any new juicy gossip?"

"I don't gossip," I said stubbornly. I got my book and casually tossed the envelope onto the floor. My work is done. "So who are you banging now, Baddock?"

"Oh Xan," he said running his hand through his hair. "I am sure you could guess."

"Edgecomb?"

"No she's next though. Hannah Abbott."

"The hufflepuff, why you are a trixster," I said.

"Oh I am not the only trixster," he said looking me up and down. "I heard about the bet you have going with Nott. I have ten galleons on you."

"I am flattered."

"So who is the guy?"

"I have learned long ago not to surrender my secrets to playboys like you," I said with a wink.

"Oh come on Marlow. If you don't have anyone I would be happy to help you find a target."

I smirked, "I might or might not take you up on that offer. We'll be in touch, Malcolm." I kept going towards the door but he couldn't resist one last comment.

"I like the hair, Xan. Very fitting."

I lit up a cigarette then turned to him, "Thanks. How do you know it wasn't planned?" I threw him one last wink before heading to the library.

"Hola, Ronaldo," I said as I gracefully flopped into a chair. I still was still working on my cigarette and putting very little effort into hiding it from Madame Pince.

"Why do you call me that?" he asked gruffly, trying not become seduced by my charisma, or that is at least what I tell myself to boost my ego.

"Because two many people would turn around if I said, Weasley."

"That is dirty," he growled.

"I saw you in your birthday suit I wouldn't be going around calling what I do dirty." He blushed and I blew smoke over my shoulder. "Anyway how about you do the potion up in Gryffindor tower and I will write up all the results."

"Why me?"

"Because I know you will ask Granger for help and I also know she won't fuck up the potion. Or you will steal her notes and do it correctly off of those." He shifted uncomfortably and I smirked.

"How do you know that?" he asked, probably having an internal argument with himself.

"I know everything," I blew out the smoke from my throat lazily. "You know, Ronaldo," I said tapping the ash onto the carpet. "I might be willing to put our bad history and the fact that your friend Potter turned my hair red behind us, and strike up a truce of sorts with you."

"What type of truce?" he asked narrowing his eyes.

I smirked, "You know what they say Ronaldo, always helpful to have friends in high places."

"You think you're in a high place?" he looked at me doubtfully.

"You wouldn't want to get on my bad side," I gave him a quick raise and drop of my eyebrows.

"What's in it for you?"

"For me?" I leaned towards him. "Let's just say I won't have to mind rape you next time."

"What's in it for me?" okay now he was just starting to sound like a drone. I bet Granger had warned about making deals with slytherins or something like that.

"Who would you like to be dating?"

"I'm not going to be telling you that!"

I shrugged, "Suit yourself, I could have told you whether they were single, being courted, taken, etc."

"Prove it."

"Hannah Abbott is two timing McMillan."

"What! With who?"

"Ah, ah, un," I said doing a tsk-tsk with my finger. "We are still enemies remember. No truce." I didn't mention anything about Gryffindor or slytherin because that might have caused him to have a bout of house loyalty or something. He brought it up himself though.

"But I'm a Gryffindor, you're a slytherin."

"Merlin, Weasley, I am not suggesting we become friends or something. It is purely business. Unless of course, you need Potter and Granger's approval to make contacts for favors." Ah, right there, that hit a nerve.

"Fine," he said sticking out his hand sharply. "Deal."

"Deal."

The next morning my plan couldn't have gone better. Everyone was talking about the photos of Harry Potter that had surfaced in the slytherin common room. Malcolm was responsible for initially spreading them around but no other house had them.

When wonderboy entered the great hall, the entire table erupted into mocking laughter and I felt pretty fucking pleased with myself. It didn't take long after that for the other houses to see some of the photos and I loved watching wonderboy in agony and embarrassment.

Before potions, Zabini, Avery (Maximus Avery, yes son of the death eater that was killed earlier) and I approached Granger. "Please tell me you are not involved with Potter," Blaise pleaded with his suave earnest voice.

"Those photos are all smear," she hissed.

"But if you are involved with him, tell me so I can steal you away."

"I am not involved with Harry!"

"ooh, defensive," Avery said smirking. I just smoked my cigarette and watched in amusement.

Suddenly, out of no where, wonderboy appeared. "Sod off, Zabini, don't look so damned pleased with yourself."

"hey, hey," he said holding his hands up. "It was Baddock who found 'em. I just am preserving my interests," he winked at Hermione then we walked away.

"What do you see in her?" Avery asked.

"Her cynical intelligence is a major turn-on," Blaise said.

"Date Marlow, you have intelligent and cynical right here."

"Ew," Blaise looked at me. "No offense Marlow but I don't like a heavy dose of sneaky on top of my turn-on."

I laughed. "You two give yourself a bit too much credit in the Casanova department. Besides Casanovas can only properly seduce girls who don't want them."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Don't start getting ideas." Indeed the last thing I needed was Zabini trying to seduce me, though I rather knew he wouldn't. I am not the most desirable of girls you know. As far as I know, slytherins don't find clever, fast-tongued girls of scary reputation (thank you, father) very desirable and everyone else wouldn't be caught dead with a slytherin girl of the above qualities, I'm not even good looking and at least some girls have that going for them. Though I wasn't really worried. I still had Justin, my little masochist.

After potions I waited at the top of a certain flight of stairs at led to Gryffindor tower for wonderboy. I needed to make sure he knew who he was fucking around with. I saw him come through the corridor beneath me, turn and stop.

I smirked. "Why 'allo there, Potter. I liked the one of you butt-naked searching for chest hair the best."

"Why you," he said coming a few steps towards me. "You took those photos didn't you?"

"Take them? Hah, I wouldn't be caught dead inside Gryffindor tower and you would have to be pretty daft not to notice me." He stopped and I let my words sink in. "I wonder what your ex-girlfriend thought, or for all I know she left them at the foot of the dungeons. I heard you were a bit _lacking._" He gave me a look that had me double checking my exit strategy. Down the corridor and down the other flight of stairs.

"Why are you harassing me like this, Marlow?" he said. "What have I ever done to you?" there was so many emotions in his voice I was almost overwhelmed. Not used to _that _many feelings.

I sneered. "What have you done to me? Well you are daft aren't you."

"Is this just because I am in Gryffindor?"

"No, no, no, no," I said shaking my head. "You fucked with the wrong person, wonderboy and you will pay."

"Is this because of your stupid hair?" he shouted. "What do you want from me?"

I just sneered. I rarely sneer by the way but after today, he really deserved it. Then I walked back to the common room.

I pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out of some first year's hands and flipped to the second page. "World-reknowned businessman Zarek Marlow was arrested today by aurors, two weeks after the Ministry of Magic discovered the existence of the Marlow crime family. His direct heir, Alexandra Marlow, is currently a sixth year slytherin at hogwarts." I spat out the headline then tossed the paper into the fireplace. I didn't want to read all the questions and slander being raised about my father and my family.

Author's Note: There we go, a bit long and a bit more insight into Xan. Why does she hate Harry so much all of a sudden? Well I hope the headline gave you some ideas but wasn't too much of a cliffhanger. anyway, see you all in the next chapter!


	4. Games We Play

Disclaimer: No I don't own anything but Xan

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the reviews, some of you got the headline hint others didn't. But don't worry, this story won't be all dark, far from in fact. Anyway, thank you all so much for your feedback, here we go.

Chapter Four: Games We Play

I stayed up all night trying to figure out how to reverse that hex on my hair and it could not be done. It could not be done! I am rather good with hexes, if I do say so myself but whatever the fuck Potter had done to it, I could not fix it! So I got so worked up I sat smoking a fag in front of the fire from 2-3am in order to unwind.

Suddenly, someone came running into the common room. I tried to remain calm as I looked to see who it was. "Malfoy?" I said trying to eliminate the surprise from my tone. "What the hell happened to you?" his hair was disheveled, clothes everywhere, looked like he had just run out of sex. Hm, maybe he did.

"Just running from a fling?" I asked, turning back to the fire.

"No," he said standing up and smoothing out his clothes. "She just got a little to attached."  
"I always knew you were never one to sit in bed and smoke after sex."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, sitting in the chair next to.

I took a drag of my cigarette, "It means whatever you think it means."

He groaned and grabbed his hair. "You and your fucking games, Marlow." Something tells me that he didn't have as much of a satisfying conquest as he would like me to think. "What are you doing down here anyway?"

I shrugged, "Smoking."

"I can see that," he said with an unappreciative sneer. There was silence for a few minutes. "What happened to your father?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Draco never did like explaining himself, "why did the daily prophet say he was evading a trial date?"

I winked at him, "Wouldn't you like to know all my little secrets."

"Marlow if you want my father's help, he'll give it."

"Draco," I said exhaling, "if I want your help, I'll ask. If my father wants it, he will ask."

"Suit yourself," he said standing up, giving up on trying to pry. "Good night, Marlow."

"Good night, Draco."

"Oh and Marlow," he said stopping by the stairs, "are you coming to the quidditch game on Saturday?"

"Who are you playing?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Why do you want me there?"

He smirked, "I need my posse present."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah I'll be there."

This week seems to have dragged on forever. I finally turned in my project that I did with Ronaldo, I was given top marks and he was given half because Snape claimed there were problems with the potion and since he knew Ronaldo brewed it . . . you get it.

Anyway, the really weird thing that happened to me that Friday, was as I was coming out Herbology, Seamus Finnegan ran right into me. The strange thing about this red hair is no one recognizes me. Even slytherins so I wasn't surprised when the Gryffindor was asking my name. I introduced myself as Xandra.

"Well nice to meet you Xandra," he said smiling. I couldn't decide whether I liked or loathed his accent. He saw me fumbling with all my books spilled onto the ground. "Oh jesus let me help ya wit' that."

'"Thank you," I said, my red hair falling into my face.

"You wouldn't happen to be a Weasley would ya?"

"No," I said trying not to sound too offended, had to keep my cool.

"Well, if ya aren't a Weasley than I hope ya wouldn't mind tellin' me who ya are?"

I winked at him. "You'll have to wait and see not won't you?"

He grinned. "If it isn't too improper, seein' we only just met, but wouldn't ya be so kind as to accompany me to Hogsmeade on Sunday?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"Let's just say ya sparked my curiosity."

"Why not?" I replied with a bit of a cheshire cat grin.

As I walked into the building I asked myself what on earth I was thinking! A Gryffindor . . .really had I sunk to that level. Why had I not told him I was a slytherin? Actually, I knew why I had said yes, because he had asked me and didn't seem to think I resembled a goblin.

I made my way up to the library, searching for Justin and on the way, I found Baddock exiting the Ravenclaw dorms. "You can cross Mariette Edgecomb off the list," he said triumphantly.

"Malcolm you are impressive," I said. "How on earth did you get a Ravenclaw to skip her last period?"

He shrugged. "Her dorms were guaranteed empty."

"Amazing. Why tell me now and not tomorrow at breakfast."

"You see, Xan," he said putting an arm around my neck and pulling me closer. "You remember that list we made a few years back?"

"Yes."

"I intend to finish that list, this year. I have twenty to go and I want you to be my recorder."

"Why not the group?"

"Because I don't want to risk gossip," he said looking at me. "I, like you, manage to keep our affairs hush-hush and –"

"You want to know if you can trust me," I finished.

"Oh that's not it. I know I can trust you, Xan. For as much of a gossip as you are, I am proposing a pact."

"Please explain your reasoing."

"Oh come on, Xan," he said as we walked up the stairs. "You and I both know Slytherins is the house for having secrets, keeping secrets and getting secrets. I have known you since first year, Xan and I am asking you, as a friend, to listen to my secrets with lock and key. I in turn will do the same."

"Why me?"

He slapped me on the back. "I have known you since forever, Marlow. Our fathers are practically related and –"

"They are," I said flatly. "Third cousins."

"Anyway, the point is I trust you Marlow and when I need a secret, I go to you."

"You and your silver tongue, Malcolm," I said chuckling slightly. "You could McGonagal into bed."

"It isn't as though you aren't blessed with the silver tongue either, Marlow. Why are you complaining?"

"Boy's get away with more," I said reaching into my pocket for a cigarette. "It's the way it is. You are a sex-god for sleeping with girls from every house. If I did that, I would be nothing more than another slytherin slag."

"Magic's in the make up," he said with a wink. "Us gentlemen are only priviledged because you make the world seem so."

I looked up at him and lit my cigarette while staring. This indicated I half-though he was full of shit. He just winked at me again, "Magic's in the make up, babe. Now go have fun with your hufflepuff."

"What makes you think I am involved with a hufflepuff?"

"Unlike you, Xan, I have see things with my own eyes for my intelligence." Then Malcolm did one of his famous disappearing acts. Seriously, he is there one minute then he's gone and without aperating. Impressive indeed.

As I climbed the stairs to the library, I thought about what Baddock had said. Magic's in the makeup. Catchier than magic's in the controlling the way you tell the truth. Malcolm is a lot like Blaise. They both are playboys and come from prominent families but they came from opposite sides of the riverbank. Malcolm Baddock was extremely comfortable with himself and slept with girls for reasons outside the relationship (like his list for example). But Blaise is a victim of raging hormones and repressive family life. Other than they, they could be twins.

I peered into the library and just my luck, I spotted Justin. I stamped my cigarette out and walked in. He was sitting amongst five hufflepuffs, all of whom were worth nothing. Ernie Macmillan was a slightly chubby kid who was so honest it made me want to hurl. He lacks all sense of planning and strategy. For example, he stood by Potter for that ridiculous DA. Umbridge could have been taken down in a much faster way of intelligence and planning but no one listens to Xan Marlow now do they?

Then there was Susan Bones and by god did she hate me. I think she loathed more than any hufflepuff has every hated anyone. She tried to find out who had given voldemort her parents whereabouts and what do you know, the name Marlow popped up. Don't make me get into the politics of it but let's just leave it at the fact that she hated every organ in my body. Specifically my lips and tongue.

Then there was Hannah Abbot, a true hufflepuff who slept with a true slytherin and I am sure she was embarrassed down to her core. She is annoyingly loyal her house and hates slytherins in general. Just because Parkinson hassled her a bit she holds a grudge. What do you want me to do?

Nina Suchoknad was a rather pretty Thai girl whom was in my herbology class. If I remember correctly she was dating Dean Thomas. More like arm candy if you ask me but then again I am a cynic and I didn't care much about her. Her best friend, Lindsey Kognovich, was whom I find irritating.

Lindsey Kognovich was the daughter of quidditch star, Mikhail Kognovich who now played for Scotland. She transferred from Durmstrange last year and was loved by all for she was the perfect girl in many guys eyes. Pretty, sweet, connections and charming. I hope she falls of a cliff and dies because she just gave Justin a peck on the cheek. Time to remind Justin where his loyalties lay.

"Why hello there my badgers?" I said with a leering grin. "Excited for the game?"

"Don't you have something better do you, Marlow?" Bones asked nastily, we call this hn, hufflepuff nasty, because let's face it, slytherin nasty wins out always. Just wake Pansy up on a Sunday morning.

"Hm, not right now," I said running my fingers across Justin's shoulders and flicking Kognovich in the head.

"I think we'll play our best," Kognovich said smiling at me.

I glared at her. "Ten galleons says you lose."

"I don't gamble."

"But I do," Abbott said. "It's a bet."

I gave her a smirk then casually touched Justin as I walked away. I waited in the corridor for Justin to come out and like clockwork he did. I kissed him fiercely and backed him into an even thinner corridor. "What was that all about with Kognovich?" I growled when I broke away.

"Nothing," he said. "We are just friends." He sounded breathless and I didn't do anything to cure that. As far as I was concerned, Justin was mine and would stay mine. He always came back to me. I had a year of experience with him. Did Kognovich have that?

At the quidditch match that Saturday I shoved a second year out of their seat and plopped down next to Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode. "Who's winning?" I asked.

"Morgan almost scored," she replied.

Okay, here is the low down on the slytherin quidditch team. Draco is the seeker, Avery and Cappar were beaters, Morgan, Zabini and Graham Pritchard were chasers and MacDougal was the keeper. The only people I really cared about on the other side were Kognovich, the keeper and Justin, a chaser. Quidditch is war for this team. They tore the hufflepuffs apart.

I spotted Malcolm across the seats and so I got up, smoking a fag and started to walk towards him. He has a sister in hufflepuff on the team, Eleanor that must be why he is here. "Hey Baddock!" I said sitting down next to him. "Here for your sister?"

"Yep. God I wish I had asked Moon to take it easy. I don't want her to die."

"I highly doubt moon would have cared."

"I agree."

"You want to know something," I said, seeing boy wonder off in the corner.

"Sure," he said, his eyes on the game.

"It was Potter that turned my hair red."

He turned to me sharply. "Really?" I nodded.

"Watch this," I pointed my want to wonderboy and murmured one of my many hexes. Suddenly, Potter's hair was neon blond. Baddock started cracking up and wonderboy searched around frantically after he noticed what had happened. When he locked eyes with me, I just winked.

I thought steam was going to blow out of his ears. He stood up and shouted the curse to have a snake thrown at me. It landed on Baddock however who was rather petrified. "Hang on to that," I said. "I have business to take care of. Come and get me wonderboy!" I shouted.

I went down the stairs and pointed up. When Potter came into the stairwell, I called the skin curse (makes you itch like mad). He yelped in pain and I made it down the stairs as he scratched himself. On the grass, I stood and waited, wand pointed at the entrance. However Potter shouted a curse before came out. I was tossed up into the air than slammed back down into the earth, got the wind knocked out of me.

Wonderboy walked out and I screamed a short latin word. His robes caught fire. Potter shouted the water charm onto himself. I made the mistake of throwing the snake curse right back at him but then there was the thing that he was a parsyle tongue. Fuck. "Experiamus!" I shouted, and threw wonderboy back into the bleachers. He threw another curse and I was thrown to the ground in a seizure of sorts. When I snapped out of it my lip was bloody and my nose as well, not to mention hair everywhere.

Out of no where Baddock shouted a curse and spiders were all over wonderboy. "Carnes!" I shouted and one of my famous two headed hell dogs. They're dobbermans with a hanckering for flesh, I made them after I mixed a transfiguration assignment with a charms spell.

Wonderboy was backed up against the wall with his robes torn when someone shouted, "Enough!" Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick had arrived. "This is quite enough, Ms. Marlow, Mr. Potter. I want to see you in my office immediately."

So we were in the coots office almost minutes later listening to McGonagal going on and on about using dueling spells in school. "As if there isn't enough tension between houses already, you two," she pointed at me, "are respected students in your houses and should no better!"

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Potter? Ms. Marlow?" Snape asked. "I would love an explanation for your hair, Mr. Potter."

Wonderboy blushed and I filled the gap. "When I was speaking with Mr. Weasley about a potions assignment, Potter here came out of no where, hexed me and now my hair is permanently red," I said, fumbling for a cigarette.

"She was harassing Ron!" he pleaded, looking to Dumbledore for support.

"My hair is fucking red, Potter," I said lighting up. "You deserve to be neon blonde. I didn't deserve a snake thrown at me. And it didn't even hit me, it hit Malcolm Baddock."

Snape plucked the cigarette from my lips and put it out not saying anything about the habit. "That does sound quite uncalled for."

"I am sure Mr. Potter has an explanation," McGonagal said, looking to him to defend himself.

"Whatever reasons these two may have," Dumbledore said raising a hand. "It doesn't change the fact that it is a ridiculous conflict. Therefor I believe the two of you will be spending your evenings for the next two weeks alone in one of the classrooms on the bottom floor helping Argus Filch with his chores."

Potter groaned.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked. "Wouldn't it be more punishment to just take points?"

"I am not looking for punishment," he said. "I am looking for a solution. Your detention will begin Monday evening."

I see no solution in this because I will only finish hexing him Monday.


	5. Neon Blondes and Coconuts

Disclaimer: If you want Xan have her.

Author's Note: Deeper down the rabbit hole we go. Basically this chapter does just that, not much fun for our Xan Marlow but good for you readers. Anyway so here it goes. Thank you so much for all the reviews!

Chapter Five: Neon Blondes and Coconuts.

"Look at his hair," Blaise said his face contorting in disgust. "He looks like a bloody skink."

"I love you, Marlow," Draco said staring with utter fixation at the gryffindor table. "You are officially my right hand man."

"I thought I was your right hand man!" Teddy said hotly.

"Did you ever turn Potter's hair neon blonde?" Blaise said.

I sat across the table from the guys, legs crossed and smoking a cigarette. I was very pleased with myself because my hair was long forgotten. I was the hero of the day thanks to a few well directed loud mouths telling the entire school that Marlow and Baddock had hexed Potter into oblivion. Conveniently enough, no one except my "people" knew the truth about the detentions.

"Thank you every so much Draco for the promotion," I said sarcastically, reaching for the Daily Prophet. I mumbled under my breath, "self-centered ass." I cringed as I saw the article on the third page. _Marlow Trial Set for February 15th. _I sneered and scanned the article. Falsely told accounts of my father's projects etc. Oh no, they did not just bring up my name. _Alexandra Marlow, the heir to everything her father owned and more, has yet to be interviewed about what she will do with Marlow corporations. If she chooses to follow in her father's footsteps, how long will Headmaster Dumbledore protect her? _I crumpled up the paper calmly but angrily, causing the other guys to look at me with raised eyebrows.

I picked up my other two pieces of mail. One was from the headmaster and the other was . . . shit. "What's wrong with you, Xan?" Blaise asked, noticing my expression.

"Nothing," I said, shoving the letter quickly into my robes. "Just a note from the headmaster." I opened the letter and read it. "He wants to see me in his office as soon as possible."

"What does that old coot want now?" Malfoy asked.

"Probably wants to get some information out of you," Blaise said jokingly.

I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. "Are you guys going to Hogsmeade today?"

"Yes," they all answered. Great. I was going to have to be with Finnegan on the back of the moon in order for them not to see.

I found myself ten minutes later standing in front of Dumbledore's office with my arms folded across my chest. Just before I began hollering for the old man, he came up behind me. "Glad to see you could make it, Miss Marlow."

I nodded, "Pleased to know your timing is perfected, Headmaster. What is it you wished to discuss with me?"

"Please come in," he said motioning for me to follow him. "Miss Marlow, due to recent events I thought it would be appropriate to talk with you. You know, Professor Snape knew your father in school and I met after he –"

"Started his first organization. With all due respect, headmaster I know this already."

He smiled at me and his eyes sparkled. "I suppose you do."

"Headmaster, did you bring me here to ask me if I have any intention of expanding the family empire?"

He paused. "What are your plans for after you graduate Miss Marlow?"

"I am the heir to the Marlow empire," I said calmly. "I will most likely take over intelligence until my father dies and I then I will become the CEO of Marlow Enterprises."

"Miss Marlow," he said, sitting down. "I must stress that in these times, the public is prone to supporting aurors and the order. The high society you were born into isn't well-liked."

"Of course," I said fumbling with a cigarette in my pocket. "Why else would they crucify my name in the papers? My father's arrest made Harry Potter a hero. Again."

"I want to know I am doing my best to keep reporters away but –"

"Thank you professor but I do not need your help. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an engagement in Hogsmeade," I stood and his eyes twinkled as though he knew what I was up to.

I turned to leave but he said one last thing. "You might want to consider ending your smoking habit, Ms. Marlow."

I glanced over my shoulder at him then lit up a cigarette and walked out.

"Hey there, Xan." I found Blaise waiting for me.

"I thought you would be in Hogsmeade already," I said, taking a drag of my cigarette.

He shrugged, "Decided to wait for you."

"I am honored."

"So what did they headmaster have to say?" he asked as we walked.

"Just wanted to share his opinion on my father's position."

"I got that talk earlier in the term," Blaise said scrunching up his face. The Zabinis own an italian robe making company, very chic (why do you think he is dressed so well all the time) and when Blaise's uncle refused to help voldemort after Harry Potter crippled him, voldemort called Blaise's uncle and accomplice and got thrown into azkaban.

"How are you doing with that bet by the way?" Blaise asked.

"Dandy," I lied.

"Teddy is doing terrible," Blaise said with a grin. "He got shot down twice by ravenclaws and he has too much pride for hufflepuffs."

"Thank god," I said exhaling.

"What about you?"

I smirked, "How do you think people would react if I had a gryffindor on my arm?"

Blaise tilted his head back and laughed. "They would either think you were the most brilliant or the most slutty slytherin to ever walk the earth. Are you actually thinking of doing it?"

"I would have to take my chances on the first," I said with a wink. "How's Hermione?"

"Oh she's fabulous!" he said with a leering grin. "I overheard her and weasley arguing. You should check it out, Xan."

"What am I, your slave?"

He laughed, "What do you think my plan of action should be?"

I snorted, "You don't care what I have to say Blaise, you are too ambitious for your own good."

Blaise ran off a few minutes later after the golden trio, looking to sweep hermione off her feet. I didn't have my slytherin badge on (I was in fitting trousers and jacket) so I walked through hogsmeade searching for Seamus Finnegan.

"Why 'allo ther' gorgeous," I turned around and was facing a want with flowers coming out of the end. I smirked (my form of smile) and took them.

"Thank you."

"Where would the lady like to go?" he asked grinning. "The three broomsticks perhaps?"

"Are you planning on showing me off to your friends on the first date?" I asked slyly. Oh that was clever Marlow.

Seamus laughed, "Then how about to the pub on the other side of hogsmeade?"

"Perfect."

"So what house are you in?" he asked as we began to walk.

I smirked. "I'll give you two guesses."

"Ravenclaw?"

"No."

"Hm . . I would feel daft fo' askin' but Gryffindor?"

"Nope sorry, tough luck." I said with a grin.

"Well then what is your favorite color?"

"Hm green and black. You?"

"Blue."

"Nice and simple."

"It's just a color."

I thought about that for a moment. "You're right, it is."

"Would ya like to get somethin' to drink?" he asked.

It seemed too early for firewhiskey so I asked for a butterbeer once we got inside the place. "So tell me 'bout yourself," Seamus said taking a sip of his own butterbeer. "I don't even know your last name, Xandra."

I smirked, "Do you really need to know it?" I couldn't believe what I was doing. I was flirting with Seamus Finnegan! A gryffindor who didn't likely know who Xan Marlow was. On top of it all, he was flirting back. This was a strange situation indeed.

At the end of the day we walked back to the castle and in the empty courtyard went our separate ways, that was of course, my request. "Are ya sure ya don't want me to walk you to your common room?"

"You just want to find out what house I am in," I answered. "See if I'm lying about the ravenclaw."

"How'd ya know?" he asked playfully.

"Bye Seamus," I said turning to leave.

"Wait a moment, Xandra," he said. I turned and he kissed me quickly on the cheek. I gave him a small smile than slithered off.

The next morning I was walking with Morgan, Draco, Blaise and Teddy who were all ranting about the quidditch game, specifically Kognovich. "She had to have just got on the team because of her fucking last name," Moon said harshly.

"If she's terrible," I said, taking a drag of my cigarette. "Why are you complaining?"

"Because she is a wretched slag!"

I rolled my eyes. "Keep talking like that and someone will think you're serious."

"You just had to get into a hexing fight right when I was scoring didn't you?" Blaise said glaring at me.

"I think Harry Potter's hair is a nice trade off."

"There she is," Draco said gesturing ahead of us. "Kognovich and another hufflepuff."

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," I answered. I didn't like seeing the two so cozy.

"Xan, you handle him," Morgan said. "I have to talk to Kognovich."

"Dandy," I said, walking right to Justing, taking his arm and pulling him around the corner.

"What is going on with you?" I hissed.

"What do you mean me?" he asked, showing a great deal of bravery and not slinking back.

"I smell it on you," I said sounding quite creepy and intimidating. That caused him to pop like a balloon.

"You don't care about me, Xan, Lindsey does."

"Whoa, whoa," I said, trying to shush him. "Keep it down."

"Look, see you can't even bare to have your friends know you are involved with a hufflepuff! Over a year Xan and we are going no where," he looked up at me with pleading eyes. "And now you want to stake your claim?"

I couldn't bear to look him in the eye and admit he was right. "Fine," I said pushing away from him. "Suit yourself, Justin." I sneered and walked away. I didn't actually want to walk away you know. But I wasn't about to stand there and have someone play therapist on me.

As we entered the great hall, after Morgan had roughed up Kognovich a bit, I noticed Seamus staring directly at me. Fuck, was my initial thought but then I noticed Harry Potter next to him, grinning. Despite this tragic event, I threw them both my best smile. Never accuse a slytherin of being non-versatile.

That night after an excruciating day of lessons, I waltzed down to the detention room where McGonagall was waiting with her arms folded across her chest. Oh and wonderboy was there too. "You're late, Miss Marlow."

"I blame Professor Flitwick," I said with a grin. I had created a new hex of sorts in Transfiguration that day involving an elephant charm and I know already that McGonagall isn't a fan of my creativity.

"Now," she said. "You both are to stay in this room until 9 pm. Violence of any kind or smoking is prohibited."

She gave me a glare and I grinned. "Yes ma'am." She breezed past me and I sat on the table while wonderboy sat in a chair. I noticed he was avoiding my eyes.

"Is there something wrong with my face, Potter?" I asked. "You aren't looking me in the eyes."

He sneered. "You don't deserve it."

"Well then,"I said lighting up a cigarette.

"Do you mind no smoking in here?" he asked sourly.

"As a matter a fact, I do. Want one?" I offered. He stared at them like they were snakes. "Ah, I see how it is, Mr. Wonderboy doesn't like to live."

"I hardly see how infecting my lungs is living."

"Only a dandy ass would say that," I replied puting my smokes away.

"Excuse me are you calling me gay?" I shrugged. That got him all riled up. "I am not gay!"

"Suit yourself, wonderboy," I said drawing out my words.

"I'll prove it to you!"

I looked at him. "Oh yeah, how?" He faltered. "See Potter, you have nothing to say for yourself."

"Sod off, Marlow."

After a few minutes I began to talk. Just talk. I do that sometimes but it is usually planned to get on someone's nerves. "I had a goldfish once. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Then my cat got it out of the bowl. When my father found it on the carpet he got so angry I thought steam came out his ears. I wanted to bury it but –"

"Shut up!" wonderboy shouted. "Bloody hell you are the most annoying –" when he saw my grin he stopped.

"Potter," I began and he tensed up. "How do you undo that hair spell you put on me?"

"After all that you expect me to unhex you?"

I shrugged, "I suppose you like being neon blonde."

"You unhex me and I will unhex you," he said.

I shrugged, "Fine." I didn't really care. So I turned his hair black again. But when it was time for him to do it, he accio-ed something out of my pocket. "You bastard!" I shouted reaching for it but he was already reading it.

"_Dear Xandra, I expect you are in good health and that the papers haven't been bothering you. I am writing in regards our estate and your future succession into the Marlow empire that I have built for you. I –" _I didn't let Potter finish. I snatched the letter out of his hand and put a fist in his face.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted stumbling back.

"Serves you right."

Before I knew what hit me I was thrown across the room. When I peeled myself off the floor, I shouted, "Elephantes!" Wonderboy's ears became the size of dinner plates and his nose extended into a trunk.

"That is enough!" Snape came storming in because he had undoubtably watched the hole thing. How, I don't know, he's amazing. "Get into separate corners and stay there. If I hear one word!"

"She isn't allowed to smoke professor and she's a bloody chimney right now!"

"Not one word, Potter!"

So he left and we went to our corners. I took advantage of the situation and after thirty minutes began to sing. "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, dediledee, there they are a standing in a row, bum bum bum, big ones small ones . . ." and there wasn't a thing wonderboy could do.

After detention let out, I was turning to the corridor of the dungeons when I saw a familiar head of bushy brown hair come scampering out of the common room. My cigarette almost fell from my lips. " Zabini's good."

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed that chapter to some degree, it wasn't my personal favorite. Though I promise you the next one will be more fun. Slytherin Truth or Dare! Anyway, was always I love feedback! Cheers!


	6. Slytherin Truth or Dare

Disclaimer: All that you recognize is not mine

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! Yes, her hair is still Weasley red but it will change back . . . eventually. I would like to address the comment by a reviewer who said the story was unrealistic. :shrug: No one ever goes into enogh detail anyway so who knows? Anyway, I am totally excited for this chapter, I hope you enjoy it! Due to losing it the first time I wrote it, that explains the delay.

Chapter Six: Slytherin Truth or Dare

"Fucking Hagrid," Blaise grumbled, slouching in a large armchair across from me. "I don't touch animals that will self-combust on my hand! Give me a fucking fag," he snarled. I tossed him one of my cigarettes and he lit up.

Today in Care of Magical creatures we had been working with these birds that if you don't take care of them properly, or hold them right or something, they basically blow up in your hand. I found this hilarious but Blaise had refused to touch them and got sent to Snape for it. Granted Snape didn't do much but still it had been terrible for the Italian.

I however, was smoking with my legs over the armrest of a different reason. Justin had in fact, against all probablity, asked Kognovich out who naturally said yes. Also, Seamus still wasn't looking at me. This doesn't sit well with me you know. So here I was, three cigarettes down and about ten more to go.

"Don't you have detention or whatever?" Blaise asked.

"You think I am actually going?"

"Well what do you want to do instead?" I shrugged. "Come on, Xan," he said huffily. "You have more games up your sleeve then Draco has blonde chest hair now pick something!"

"How about . . . truth or dare," I said.

Blaise shrugged. "Works for me. We need more people though."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Hey Theo, Draco, Morgan, Malcolm!" he shouted. "Get your bloody arses over here, we're playing a game! Bring the firewhisky with you!" Gryffindors have butterbeer, we have firewhiskey.

"What are you shouting about Zabini," Draco asked, coming over all the same.

"Sit down, we're playing truth or dare," Blaise said, sliding off of the chair to the floor. I stayed on the chair.

"Let me get Pansy and Daphne," Morgan said, running up to the dormitories. Moments later she returned with the two and the game was set in motion.

"Now," Blaise said, still puffing away. "Everyone has to answer truthfully or Xan will bust you for something i don't yet know anything about." I smirked and nodded. "So Theo, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered, taking a swig of firewhiskey.

"Wanker," Malcolm said.

"Who, in this circle would you shag, who's a guy," Blaise finished.

"What! I am not answering that!" Theo protested.

Blaise looked at me as did everyone else. I just gave him a knowing smirk which was all it took to evoke an answer. Don't I speicial. Theo mumbled something and everyone leaned in. "What?"

"I said Baddock!" Everyone howled with laughter and Theo quickly moved on, trying not to go beat red.

"Daphne truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said with a smirk.

"Take all your makeup off and leave it off for the rest of the night." If there hadn't been so much blush on her face, Daphne would have paled. Slowly, using her wand she got all the makeup off her face. Everyone gasped.

"Daphne," I said calmly. "You honestly don't look any different."

"Yep, still bird-like," Draco said with a nod.

She sneered at him before moving on. "Pansy truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What is the most attractive thing about Draco and when did you discover it?"

She paused. "His ass. Noticed in third year."

All the boys laughed and Draco just scowled. Malcolm patted him in teh shoulder. "You should take that as a compliment, mate."

In case you are wondering, Pansy is quite over Draco. She isn't a lovesick pug as some gryffindor narrators would have you think. Let's just say she and Morgan are partners in cime when it comes to ravenclaws.

The firewhiskey finally got to me and I started to chug. "Damn, Marlow," Theo said. "What got you all worked up?"

I passed the bottle and shrugged, starting on a new cigarette. "We all need to loosen up."

"Malcolm, truth or dare?" Pansy asked.

"Dare," he said with a confident smirk.

"Snog someone in this room."

"Oh that was too easy, pansy," I muttered as malcolm surveyed the room. I put out my cigarette and took another swig of fire whiskey while i waited for him to pick. Suddenly, he got up and came over to Draco. Well, at least i thought he was coming over to Draco. In fact, he came over to me.

For the record, I have kissed Malcolm Baddock before. I won't go into the details because this isn't the time or place and he just tried to add tongue. I bit him.

He pulled away sharply and rolled his lips, trying to hid the pain. "You minx, Marlow. Anyway, my turn," he said sitting down again. "Marlow truth or dare?"

"Can't get enough of me can you?" I said coyly.

"Oh yes nicotine gets me going."

"Dare," I answered nonchalantly.

He grinned. "Go to the detention room and snog Potter senseless."

Everyone got quiet, not sure whether to laugh or gasp. I took it in a stride, this would be amusing. "Alright," I swung my legs around onto the floor. "Let's go." I walked smoothly out of the common room and the seven other members of our game followed.

"You're actually going to do it?" Pansy hissed.

"I'm no coward," I said. "Get that smirk off your face, Draco," I said calmly.

"You're going to kiss, Potter," he said dreamily. "This is priceless."

I looked at Malcolm and we both rolled our eyes. Draco was about a tuesday away from being gay. Not to say I didn't love the little blond brat, I have after all spent more time living with him than anyone else next to Baddock. He is just . . . interesting . . . and he makes pig noises in his sleep but I can usually ignore those.

I stopped everyone a corridor away from the detention room, all except Malcolm (he had to bear witness) and then I waltzed on in. "Nice of you to finally show up," Wonderboy spat.

"You don't sound very happy that I did," I replied sititng on the same table. He sneered at me. "You know Potter," I said sliding towards him. "You don't have a good sneer, or a scowl for that matter. You contort your face in the completely wrong way."

"What are you, a critic?"

"Perhaps," I said continuing to move closer and closer to him. He shifted uneasily. "See," I reached out towards him. "You have to move your eyes one way and your lips another." Just before he could say, huh, I captured his mouth in a kiss. I counted in my head and just before you would add tongue, I pulled away.

I calmly got to my feet and left the room without pause. Once I got out into the corridor I found Malcolm holding back his snickers. "Lovely," he barely got out. After all the comments and gasps it was my turn to ask.

"Draco, truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said, giving me the look that makes all the girls melt.

"Run naked through the quidditch pitch."

He stared at me, as though assessing whether deny it or complying would be better for him. If he complied, how would he do it and still save face? He leaned over to Pansy and whispered something. She dashed off and minutes later came back with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Alright, Marlow, I'll do it."

"It's a dare, Draco. It's not like you have a choice."

"But," he went on as though he hadn't heard me because let's face it, slytherin boys never listen to slytherin girls. "Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Zabini and Baddock have to do it as well."

"Ew," Morgan shivered. "Crabbe . . . naked. Disgusting."

Daphne whistled. "Let's go, Malcolm!"

I folded my arms across my chest. "Shall we go to the pitch then."

"Whoa," Teddy said holding up his hands. "I never signed up to run naked." Draco shot him a look and had you been there, you would know why they call him the prince of slytherin but the prince is nothing without his court.

"You have to give me a better reason than that," Blaise said folding his arms. That was when I realized I wasn't the only one who knew about Hermione Granger and moreover, discovered that it wasn't a typical conquest. Blaise was going to go naked as well.

When we got out to the pitch, I lit a cigarette and motioned for the boys to strip. Daphne and Pansy were giggling and Morgan was swilling firewhiskey. Before Crabbe or Goyle could touch a single button on their shirts, I made them go around the bleachers. "Like what you see Marlow?" Draco asked as he slowly removed his pants.

I blew smoke over my shoulder. "Oh yes, Malfoy you in boxers is what I dream about now take them off."

"First you have to tell us what hte fuck we're doing," Theo said, rubbing his arms. "It's bloody freezing."

"I like it," Malcolm said, shaking his ass towards Morgan.

"Run around the pitch, butt naked," I began, "then come all the way back here and do six jumping jacks."

"You will pay for this, Xan!" Blaise shouted just as all the others ripped off their boxers and ran.

"That is disgusting," Morgan said gesturing with the bottom of the bottle towards Crabbe and Goyle.

"Yeah but look at Baddock," Daphne said awed.

They came around, Draco, Blaise and Teddy racing eachother for first while Malcolm casually jogged as though he did it on a regular basis and the brutes were struggling not to die. They came up, stopping yards away from us and started the jumping jacks.

"Marlow! You –" someone shouted my name and I spun around to find a very unconscious Harry Potter.

"I always knew he was a poof," Daphne whispered.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Teddy shouted, being overcome by body-consciousness.

"More the merrier," Blaise said elbowing Draco.

"Fuck you!" the blond said, finished and grabbing for his shorts. "Let's rough up pretty boy here."

"Draco, you have a game to play," I said putting out my cigarette and walking towards the unconscious wonderboy. "I have something in mind."

"Leave it to Marlow to be the torture expert," Blaise said.

"Oh you better believe it," I said taking a hold of one of Potter's arms and dragging him. "I'm going to dress him up like a girl and everything."

"Take pictures," Pansy called. She is such a ditz somtimes.

"Huh, Wha-" Wonderboy finally woke and looked around. I waited for him to see me as I sat smoking in a chair. When he did see me, he fixated and stared as though he was trying to burn a hole through my skull.

"Why 'allo there," I said blowing smoke.

"Where am I?" he asked darkly.

"Slytherin common room," I answered.

"Too empty," he said looking around at the dark surroundings. "Where am I really?"

I laughed, "Slytherin common room, just off in a corner."

"What do you want?"

I rolled my eyes. "You really should be thanking me Potter. You fainted like a pansy at the sight of a few naked boys and if I hadn't stepped in you would have been gang raped."

He shivered but got it together (unlike Ronaldo if I had to place a bet). "What's in it for you?"

I shrugged. "Why did you come looking for me?"

As though a light bulb of rememberance came on over his head, he got to his feet, straightened himself out and walked over. I calmly placed my cigarette in the ashtray and folded my arms. Like a fool seeking vengeance, he smashed his lips onto me, assaulted me with his tongue and then pulled away.

"You aren't the only one who can take power through a kiss," he said folding his arms. He couldn't hold that pose for long because his face faultered. "Do you have any water?"

"Why?"

"My mouth tastes like a tar barrell."

"Not my problem," I said with a shrug. "Would you really trust dirty slytherin water anyway?"

"Care to show me the exit?" he snarled.

"Hm . . . no," I said twirling a cigarette in my hands.

"What do you want?" he asked, getting irritated.

"Truth or dare?"

"What?"

"Truth or dare?" I repeated. "It isn't that difficult of a question."

"Truth, wait, no, dare, wait . . . truth."

I smirked. "Why do you hate slytherins?" In truth, this had been a question nagging me for a very very long time. I honesty don't know why, but well-aquainted with wonderboy as I was, I suppose it seemed logical to wonder why he stared fiery death at me when he never knew my name.

"B-because!" he sputtered. "You are all slimy gits who want me dead!"

"That's giving yourself a bit too much credit."

"What have I ever done to you all?" he shouted. God he gets angry so easily.

"To me? To all of us. You see a purely black and white world don't you, Potter? You have done more than you know and blinded with your own modesty about being the-boy-who-lived."

Harry opened his mouth to say something when he got an idea. "Truth or dare, Marlow?"

I paused. Clever, clever indead. "Dare," I answered. Truth is far to risky.

He paused, trying to think of something worthwhile. "I dare you to answer one question completely honestly."

"That should be against the rules," I said rolling my eyes.

"Why did you _first _hate my guts?"

I reluctantly felt my insides twisting the undeniable truth coming out. I hate this feeling. "I don't _hate _you, Potter. I just find you incredibly entertaining."

"Is that why you kissed me?"

"Tut, tut, tut, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Did you like it when I kissed you teh first time?"

He flushed. "You didn't taste like nicotine . . ."

"You have to answer truthfully you know it."

"It wasn't that bad," i think that was the best i was going to get out of him.

"Now truth or dare, Marlow."

"Dare."

"Kiss me again."

I nearly choked on my own spit. "Excuse me?"

"Then you will have to admit that you kissed Harry Potter, a gryffindor." He looked quite pleased with himself. So I did as he asked. There were no fireworks if that was what you were expecting. There was something about wonderboy though, that drew me in. Kind of the same feeling as I first had with Justin. A sense of danger, a sense of unknown and exhilaration. I liked it.

I broke away, smiled, and took his arm, making my way towards the exit. "You see, Potter," I explained. "Who are they going to believe? By who I mean everyone. Your story of a slytherin secretly in love with the boy wonder, or this?" I pushed him out into the corridor and stepped out after him.

"You pervert, Potter!" I shouted, just in time for Draco and the lot to round the corner. "Oh my god I cannot believe –"

"What happened?" Draco asked, coming towards us, at the sight of Potter.

"Sick freak kissed me!" I exclaimed.

"What!" Zabini and the girls exclaimed.

I have never seen anyone move as fast as Harry Potter did out of that hall.

The next morning I was sat down at the slytherin table feeling incredibly downtrodden. I pulled out a flask of firewhiskey I had found in the hall, near where I believe I left one last night, and poured it into my pumpkin juice.

"Hey Xan?"

"Yes," I answered looking over at Pansy.

"What did Harry Potter taste like."

"That is disgusting," Draco said as I took gulps of the drink.

I got up to fish out some cigarettes when suddenly I began to cough violently. I coughed and coughed, collapsing to my knees and finally my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I never even got to see the shock expressions of wonderboy and ronaldo.

Author's Note:So what happened to Xan? . . . anyway how was the chapter? Hope it was enjoyable. Anyone have any requests or ideas for where they would like to see the story go? I could use all the help I could get. Anyway, see you all in the next chapter.


	7. The Genius Here

Disclaimer: I don't own much.

Author's Note: I have to thank all my reviews so much, they really keep me motivated to do this story.

Chapter Seven: The Genius Here

I opened my eyes and the world was spinning. Yes, spinning. I gripped the pillow tighter and tighter as though I would fall off the world if I let go. "Are you okay, Dear?" I heard someone ask.

"Don't touch me," I cried. It felt as though a barrel of sweat was dropped upon me.

"What happened, Dear?"

"Happened, what do you mean what happened?" I shrieked. I couldn't tell what was in front of me. I gripped tighter onto the pillow. I saw Seamus wait no, it was Blaise. Wait, wait, wait it was Granger! No, no, no. Then I passed out again.

I woke up later but refused to open my eyes. I was seeing colors behind my eyelids. "I can't believe you did that, Harry!" someone was saying. "She could die! Do you know what happens when –"

Suddenly, without control over myself I interjected, "Nott and Parkinson! Dementors of Azkaban I command thee! Granger and Zabini in a tree!" I think I made some sort of weird noise before passing out . . . again.

When I woke up for real, no swirly eyes or anything, I found Granger sitting at the foot of my bed, reading a book. "What are you doing here?" I groaned. God I felt like I had just been run over by a train.

"Madame Promphery told me to watch you while she took care of other patients."

"What happened to me?" I asked reaching for the water on the bedside table.

"Madame Promphery diagnosed you with alcohol poisoning."

I glanced at her, she didn't see to think it was true, why should I. "Fire whiskey was mother's milk. What really happened?"

Granger snorted as though she was disgusted with the outcome. "You drank a faulty potion."

"Let me guess, Potter and Weasley made it."

She looked at me. "You are clever, aren't you?"

"Coming from the greatest witch of the age, I suppose that is a compliment." I reached for my cigarettes. "Of course, why else would you be here? Care to tell me what the potion was supposed to do?"

"I am not here because I feel sorry for you," she said, cutting right to the chase. "I am here because when you were utterly delirious you mention my name in the same phrase as Blaise Zabini's."

"I did?" I suddenly remembered why I would do such a thing. "Oh I did."

"Now," Granger began. "I would like to know the extent of your knowledge regarding Blaise Zabini and myself."

I smirked. "I know you're doing something with a slytherin that you wouldn't want to tarnish your running for Head Girl."

She glared at me before continuing. "I would to set up a meeting."

"What time?" I asked, lighting a cigarette and climbing out of bed.

"After dinner in the library."

"Alright," I threw on my robes then blew out smoke.

"Should you really be doing that inside a library?" Granger remarked in a thick condescending tone of voice. "Lung cancer comes faster the more of those foul things you smoke."

I shrugged, "We all gotta go sometime."

"Madame Promphery didn't want you to leave."

"She can come find me then," I said. "I have to get to DADA."

I strolled down the hall, talking my time. I grabbed my (still) red tresses and pulled them back. "Marlow!" I jumped.

"What do you want, Teddy?" I said breathing. "Almost gave me a fucking heart attack."

"So nice to see you haven't died of lung cancer. Draco was shitting himself."

"Nice to know I'm so loved. Why aren't you in DADA?"

"Skipped," he said with a shrug. "And I wanted to talk to you but the mudblood wouldn't let me."

"I'm here now, what did you want to say?"

"I propose we change the rules to the bet."

"Oh ho," I said raising an eyebrow. "Finding it a bit difficult, are you?"

"I saw we narrow the focus. You pick my target, I pick yours. The loser . . ." I raise my eyebrow again, telling him to continue. "Hits on Snape."

"Alright," I said, intrigued, Teddy seems confident. "Your target it is . . ." I smirked in delight. I am such a genius. "Hermione Granger."

"What!" Theo exclaimed. "But Zabini's after her!"

I shrugged. "Get him into the bet and I'll give you a different girl."

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

"Why do you guys want me in this thing?" Blaise asked.

"Because we have decided to mix it up," Teddy said.

"So who is my target?" Blaise asked.

"Hermione Granger," Theo and I said.

"Too easy," he said with a flip of his hand.

"Now, Teddy," I said continuing to puff on my cigarette. I whispered briefly with Blaise to nodded at my choice. "Your target is . . . Ginny Weasley."

He cringed and looked as though he was going to hurl. "Oh you will eat that smirk, Marlow." He whispered with Blaise who laughed. "Your target is . . . Harry Potter."

I put on a façade of confidence and grinned. "You act like I should be scared."

"So what are the postmarks?" Blaise asked.

Teddy gave us a slytherin smile. "You have to have to bed your targets."

Blaise laughed. "Xan . . . you have to sleep with H-Harry Potter!" he doubled over laughed.

"Well Teddy here has to sleep with Weasley. God it would be like being in the same bed with every single member of that family."

"Don't call me Teddy," Theo growled. That of course in my opinion was a cover for, fuck you.

"Is this for time?" Blaise asked.

"The sleeping, yes, but you have to take them to the next ball," I replied. "So we all have a deal, loser seduces Snape?"

"Yep," Blaise said grinning. "This is going to be enjoyable." Theo just grumbled.

That night at dinner, everyone wanted to know what had happened. I was a bit surprised to find Draco half-way to a conspiracy against whoever had done (though he didn't know the culprit). "Just give me a name, Xan."

I shrugged, "I have no name."

"Then let's fucking find one!" he shouted. "We have been attacked!" He continued to rant for a few minutes about protecting our honor while I red a note that had just been delivered to me.

Ms. Marlow- 

_I would like to see you in my office before your detention in order to discuss your alcohol poisoning._

_-Professor Snape_

I didn't know what to make of the note. Was it about who did it (which I know) or what it did to me? Either way, I don't think Snape though it was actually alcohol poisoning. Which it wasn't.

After dinner I walked up to the library, puffing on my trademark cigarette and fiddling with a sickle in my pocket. I was still wondering how to change my hair back to black. Maybe Granger would know.

I strolled into the library and found Granger already waiting for me. To be expected she lived there after all. Figuratively speaking of course but sometimes I wondered. "You're smoking in the library?" Granger exclaimed.

"Ten points from Slytherin!" Madame Pince shrieked and I rolled my eyes, pretending to put it out.

"You wanted to see me, Granger. So I don't believe you are in a position to poke at my habits."

She stiffened. "Can we get right to business."

"Let's," I said sitting up in my seat. "What did you want?"

"I need information about Blaise Zabini and what you know about Blaise Zabini and I."

I smirked. This was my opportunity. Hack one end of the golden trio. "I'll make you a deal Granger. For whatever I tell you about Blaise, you have to tell me about someone else."

"I thought it was rumored you knew everything."

I winked, "Don't degrade yourself Granger."

She clenched her teeth. "Deal." Wow, she must not be fooling around. "Who do you need information on that requires me?"

"Harry Potter," I said with a smirk. "I want Harry Potter."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "First of all, why Harry?"

"Why Zabini?" She blushed and I took that as an invitation to get ideas. "Someone challenged the bookworms femininity? Perhaps the other gryffindors don't think of you as a girl?" I said leering.

"Shut up," she said sharply. "A slytherin is chasing after Harry Potter. Why on earth would you want to do that?"

I shrugged, "I don't have to explain the workings of attraction to you."

"Can we get back on topic?"

"Sure," I said crossing my legs and blowing out smoke. "You already know that Blaise has the hots for you. Getting into his pants shouldn't be hard. But you've already done that haven't you?"

She snorted. "Carnal lust. I am not looking to be another slytherin conquest. For the record," she said looking me in the eye. I liked that type of challenge. "The reason I am even consulting you is because of Zabini's obvious carnal lust."

"You want more?" I asked with a raise of the eyebrows. "Out of Blaise Zabini?" A smirk came onto my face. "Then you most definitely will have to make him stew in that lust."

"Is that your first piece of advice?"

"Yes," I said, using the end of my cigarette to light a new one. "Do not give into Zabini's seduction. You will have to take him past the point of drooling, begging etc. Just being Granger isn't going to cut it either."

"Excuse me? What are you suggesting?"

I looked her up and down. "You want my help right? I know Zabini down to his first year boxershorts. You have to everything he is attracted too and more, in doing so, you will be out of his reach."

"Should I really trust beauty advice from a girl whose hair was turned weasley red by Harry Potter?" I gave her a short sneer. "I am surprised you haven't changed it back yet."

"It would be easier of Potter's curse was fucking reversible."

Hermione laughed, as though I was stupid. "You can't hex it back. You have to use a counter charm. Don't you slytherins take charms?"

I sneered. "Wait here, I have to go get Parkinson's beauty advice for you."

"No!" she grabbed my wrist even though I wasn't actually going to leave. "No one can know."

"Likewise," I said. "Trust me, Granger. If you fuck me over you will burn twice as bad as I." I glanced at the clock. "Let's cut this short, I have to meet Snape."

"You tell me one thing I can start doing and I will do the same for Harry."

"Alright," I said. "You can smile at him on the way to breakfast and say good morning, but only after he approaches you, which he will."

"I see," she said, halfway between accepting and rejecting the idea. "Well Harry hates your guts."

I laughed. "I knew that actually."

"He says you give him a headache."

"Not surprising."

"Tonight in detention, just don't be smartass with him."

I faked shock. "Me? A smart ass? No . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "This is no time for jokes, Marlow. If you can carry on a single conversation without being sarcastic, you have a start."

"Oh and I thought I could get him with just my shocking beauty."  
Granger snorted.

I sneered then continued. "If you retrieve information from Potter's archeives Granger, I will compensate you for the same amount from Zabini."

"Do we meet here tomorrow night?" she asked.

"I thought you were the genius," I said, gathering up my stuff and exiting the library.

When I arrived at Snape's office, I found him waiting for me while flipping through some dusty potions book. "Hello professor," I said, poking my head into his office. "You requested my presense?"

He looked up, shut his book and walked towards me. In one swift motion, he pulled the cigarette from my lips and stomped it out. "Come in, Ms. Marlow."

"You wanted to speak about my alcohol poisoning sir," I began as I stepped into his office. He motioned for me to sit. "No thank you sir, I prefer to stand."

"Just like you father," he commented. All heirs get this. Draco is constantly compared to Lucius, Theo to Nott Senior, Blaise to his father. Let's not mention if you have older siblings like Avery, his father's dead and his mother's a loon. Perfect. Then there are people like Baddock whose family is split. Little sister is a fucking hufflepuff. His mother was a slytherin heiress and his father was the diggory of his time. I myself however, always wonder where my father starts and I begin.

"I think you and I both know Ms. Marlow, that despite you terrible habits regarding your health," he motioned to my cigarettes, "alcohol poisoning is highly unlikely."

"We are both of slytherin house sir. You think the same as I do."

"Yes," he said in that condescending voice while looking me up and down. "You must get rid of that hair, Ms. Marlow. Your father will have fit if he sees you like that at his trial."

"His trial sir?"

"Let me be frank with you, miss Marlow," he said looking at me hard. "Your family is in a very polarized position and a great inheritance is awaiting you."

"You don't have to explain my family's status to me sir."

"You should be aware that not only will you name be on Gringotts accounts but you will be on the lists of aurors, papers and the rest of the society looking for a single flaw. Once they find that weakness, Miss Marlow, they will do everything they can to rip the Marlow empire to shreds."

I grinned. "Professor, with all dear respect, if you are about to suggest I marry right after I graduate to protect my name, I decline. If you are suggesting I am not fit to play ball with the fathers and empires of my closest friends, I assure you I will suffer the same fate as my mother or my father."

Ah yes, the mother. That glorious figure supposed to guide their daughter into womanhood and be their prime confident. Bah. My mother was the first daughter in an heir to a legacy similar though not as grand as mine. Her father married her off to the prominent Zarek Marlow in order to protect her name. Who knows if my parents every had the vaguest interest in one another beyond the occational sex (how else would I have come along?) but all I know for sure is she disappeared from my life when she saw nothing but Marlow behind my eyes. I am not being metaphoric, she literally disappeared. I was raised by my father and his people.

Enough reflections. Snape dismissed me and I had to get into Get-wonderboy-to-sleep-with-me-then-go-out-with-me-and-not-think-I'm-a-slut mode!

I walked into the detention room and noticed something different. Wet rags and buckets. Wonderboy did not look pleased. "McGonagall told me to tell you that we are to clean the corridors. . . the muggle way," he added.

I had the most perfect sarcastic comment on the back of my tongue but I forced myself to hold it. God no wonder I have done this before, it sucks! "Let me guess," he said, picking up a rag, sponge and bucket, "you've never done real work before."

"I beg your pardon," I said picking up the same. "We have a very different definition of work."

He grumbled something and while I was tempted to make a nasty comment, I held back . . . again. He set down the bucket, got on his knees and started scrubbing. If I was to forgo my slytherin convictions, which I currently am, I would say it was hot. I folded my robes and carefully kneeled down.

"So Potter, what's your favorite color?"

"Oh no," he said sitting up. "I am not going to fall for that again."

I rolled my eyes. "It isn't truth or dare, Potter. Just question for a question."

He gave me a look as though he was keeping an eye on me. "Fine. Green." I let the surprise who on my face intentionally. "I had favorite color before I knew about house colors. You?"

"When I had black hair, I didn't mind crimson but now with red hair, I have to go with ice blue or emerald green. New question," I stated. "Favorite food?"

"Anything Mrs. Weasley cooks," he answered without thinking. "You?"

"Liquor filled chocolates. Come on Potter, these questions don't have to be so PC." He blushed and I continued. "Was it you who spiked my drink?" He blushed. "I'll take that for a yes."

"You're not going to ask why?"

"I know why, Potter. You hate me. But it isn't my question. It's yours."

"Alright. Um, who was your first kiss?"

I smirked at the memory. "Draco Malfoy."

"Why am I not surprised."

"We were never together if that is what your thinking," I said as I continued to scrub. "In second year he called me a tomboy. So I tripped him then kissed him."

"Sounds like something you would do."

"What about you, Potter? Oh wait. Strike that, I already know."

"You do?" he seemed very surprised.

"Your involvement with Cho Chang was so obvious. But don't worry Potter. I tend to pick up on things most people don't. Here's the real question. Who have you fantasized about kissing?"

He thought for a moment. "Hermione."

"Granger? Oh that answers no fun," I said with a laugh.

"Do you have someone better?"

"Oh god when he was alive Cedric Diggory," I said, not putting any mourning in my voice. Perhaps a mistake. "But recently Potter, you have become quite a number."

"Tell me you're not serious, Marlow . . ."

"Why else would I not want Draco to sodomize you?" I replied with a wink.

"So," I continued just after he finished shivering. "What do you like to do in your spare time?"

I looked at me as though I was insane. "You never everything else about me yet you don't know what I do in my free time?"

"Hm, good point. Thought I might ask anyway." He didn't respond. Instead he kept scrubbing and scrubbing until finally he spoke.

"Sorry about you and Seamus," he mumbled.

I was surprised but took it in a stride. "Call it karma."

He looked at me. "Did you actually like him?"

I shrugged, "He didn't treat me like another snarky slytherin. Which was nice."

Wonderboy seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. My question brought him out of it. "If I may ask, what was the potion supposed to do?"

"Verasirum, you know make you tell the truth."  
I laughed. "Clever, Potter, clever. But no wonder you fail potions. I am sure Granger didn't lend a hand."

He looked away and mumbled something.

"Let me tell you what Potter," I said. "Why don't we start over. We have another week and a half of detentions anyway." I held out my hand. "Hello. My name is Alexandra Xerxes Marlow. I am in slytherin, a sixth year and you may call me Xan."

He hesitantly took my hand. "I am Harry James Potter. Gryffindor sixth year. You can call me uh, Harry . . . I guess."

I grinned like the cheshire cat. "Nice to meet you."

If you thought that was sincerity well then folks you have bore witness to my increidble skills. This was going to be too easy. Of course, when I got back to the common room, I unleashed a verbal assault on some 2nd year because of all the pent up nasty comments. I am such a genius.

Author's Note: Whoa, a long one. Anyway, how did you like it? We're finally getting somewhere. Anyway, see you all in the next chapter!


	8. Wasted Efforts?

Disclaimer: Again, I only own Xan.

Author's Note: I am glad that people picked up on the subtle vibes harry was giving off. Made me feel great. Don't worry, the world won't be so easy for Xan soon.

Chapter Eight: Wasted Efforts?

Walking to breakfast Friday morning, all Draco could talk about was who he plundered last night. Didn't exactly work out for me because the last thing I want to think about is how I am not getting squat and prince-y here is getting laid. Every word dripped with sarcasm.

"So then, I with just a shift of my hips I unleashed something," Draco continued. "She went from vulumtuous ravenclaw nerd to kinky bitch. And she had stamina!"

"Some guys get all the luck," Teddy muttered.

"And some guys can't keep their mouth shut," I growled. "The girl wasn't even on the list, Draco, keep it to yourself."

"God damn, Marlow," Draco said looking at me. "Isn't someone sexually frustated."

"Sod off, Malfoy," I snarled, blowing smoke at him sharply. Yes, my bad mood was seething and I had to get all the angry emotions out before the act took over.

"Hey look, Granger," Blaise said as though he was shouting out 'land'. "Why hello there, Hermione," he said giving her one of those seedy suggestive grins which I personally hate.

Granger had come from gryffindor tower looking uncharacteristically pretty and alone at that. She accepted Blaise's circling like a sponge. Draco was about to go up to her but I grabbed his arm. "What is it Marlow?" he hissed.

"What this," I said.

Granger smiled and said "Good morning Blaise." She then tore herself from him and entered the great hall, leaving me stuck with a dumbstruck Italian.

"Did she just smile at me?" he asked.

"Why did that mudblood use your first name?" Draco demanded.

Bliase shrugged and then a grin spread onto his face. "I think that puts me in the lead."

"Fuck you," Teddy enunciated.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" Draco asked angrily.

"Just a friendly bet," I said strolling into the Great Hall next to him.

"What, are you seeing who can sleep with gryffindors first or something?"

I caught Wonderboy's gaze and winked. "Actually Draco, yes."

He glared fiery death at me. "I hate you, Marlow."

I patted his shoulder. "Don't be jealous."

He grunted and walked swiftly over to the slytherin table. He shoved Blaise out of his way with a few cutting insults and sat down. A huge fart-noise rang through out the hall.

Everyone stared at Draco and then their eyes slowly shifted to the only people laughing. Ronaldo and wonderboy. Blaise couldn't help it, he started cracking up to. Teddy tried to laugh but Draco socked him in the gut. He glared daggers to Ronaldo then harshly asked for me to pass the eggs.

All through potions, all Draco could talk about was how he was going to make that muggle-lover pay. Or at least that is what I think he was talking about. In truth, I was too preoccupied with how I was going to get the attention of Harry Potter.

The second class was over, Ronaldo practically raced out of the room and Draco chased after him. It was probably the most immature thing I have seen recently. So I followed. At the top of the stairs, Draco had his hands around Ronaldo's throat and was shaking him. Insults abound, Blaise looked too happy with himself. "This is it, I am going to win the pool!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Teddy, Pansy, Morgan and I said in unison.

"Draco! Get down here!" Pansy shouted.

"Huh?" the blond prince turned and Ronaldo took his opportunity to kick Draco's shin. Most wizards aren't very good at physics and neither was Ronaldo. The two came toppling down the stairs and they fell into a puddle at the feet of slytherins and gryffindors alike.

"Ron!" you have to give Granger and Potter credit. They picked Ronaldo up off the floor in record time and they did it so lovingly. I just yanked Draco to his feet.

"Your turn to tell off that, poof muggle-lover," Draco hissed in my ear.

I felt slytherin eyes upon me, eagerly awaiting a clever insult. "Might I ask why the mature Weasley threw himself into the shadow of his older brothers."

"Like I was saying," Ronaldo glared at Draco. "It wasn't for the bloody ferret. It was for Zabini."

"Oh why thank you, Weasley," Zabini said with mock affection. "But I am not swinging that way. At least not today. Last night meant nothing." All the slytherins behind us snickered and Weasley went redder than a tomato in the face.

I saw the way wonderboy was looking at us and I trusted I wouldn't be doing myself any favors by making a snide comment. I literally had to bite my tongue to keep the wit inside my mouth. "Granger, keep your dogs on a leash or else you might find yourself in unpleasant situations." I threw them a wink, specifically direct at wonderboy then I walked up the stairs, away from the situation.

"What the fuck was that, Marlow?" Draco asked angrily as he caught up with me.

"It was apart of an entire set up," I lied. "I have detention with the bloke."

Draco just gave me one of those vicious glares then continued onto our next class. I was left imagining Teddy seducing Snape.

That evening, I borrowed Pansy's makeup kit and headed up to the library. I had spent hours listening to Blaise go on and on about Granger and I figured it was time to step it up a notch. Then again, this was all supposing I could figure out how to use all this stuff.

"What is that?" Granger asked in her usual condescending voice.

"I assume our deal is still intact?"

"Of course."

"Then this will make Zabini crawl. Sit still, Granger." I pulled out something that I guessed was foundation and started to apply it to her slightly blemished hairline. "What do you have for me about Potter?"

"He thought what you did today after potions was strange and uncalled for."

"I need some substance here, Granger."

"Hold your horses," she said sharply, pulled away as I rubbed the makeup into her skin. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"I asked him if he thought you were pretty and he said you were pale. So I get to put some of this bloody stuff on you."

"Psh, in your dreams, Granger."

Ten minutes later I found myself seated with colors being blended into my face. "Lovely. Just remember Granger, don't give into Zabini's advances. Keep blowing him off."

"You'll be lucky if you can get Harry talking to you."

I smirked. "Apparently you don't like the idea of a slytherin going after him."

She snorted. "Obviously. Let's be clear Marlow, I know you have some other motive but . . . a deal's a deal. Until you cross the line."

I faked shock. "Me? Something up my sleeve? I could accuse the same of you Granger. You're chasing Blaise fucking Zabini."

She hissed at me. "Keep it down! I don't actually want people to know."

"Sure, whatever, Granger."

When she finished, she stood back and looked at me, with an expression of pleasure and surprise. "What?" I asked flatly.

"You look nice, Marlow."

"Are you a follower of the goblin theory as well?"

"Well you would look better if you held down those sarcastic comments."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I have a detention to get to."

"You on time?"

"Sod off, mudblood," I said as I turned. It just rolled off the tongue.

But Granger had come prepared. "Better honest muggle dentists than corrupt pureblood crimelords."

That comment actually stung and while I usually would have walked off. I stopped, turned and buried her. "Watch where you step, Granger. It's the lords that have the power and make no mistake, my father's enterprises are more powerful than anything you've ever dreamed off."

"I know all about Marlow Enterprises. They will not withstand the Order or the Ministry. It is already unraveling. You and your entire spoiled slytherin kind."

I sneered at her more hatefully than I ever have. "If that's a challenge, Granger than consider yourself warned." I stormed out of the library and down to detention just shaking with anger.

I slammed the door of the detention classroom, expecting to have wonderboy waiting for me. Alas, it was empty and I was left festering on my anger. However, when wonderboy didn't show up for another half an hour, was when I started to get pissed off. Here I was, looking rather nice (or so I've heard, I haven't actually looked in the mirror) and Harry bloody Potter was just going to stand me up? I think not.

With a sharp opening and closing of the door I was on a rampage. My heels clicked so loud that they echoed in the corridors. Out on the quidditch pitch, just as I had suspected gryffindor was still practicing and there star seeker didn't seem to have any qualms about staying up there. That better change.

In hind sight, had I been my normal self, in more than one aspect, I would have found a more logical approach. But I wasn't and all I wanted to do was send wonderboy to next thursday.

It was extremely wet out on the pitch and windy. My hair feel loose in about two minutes. Red hair everywhere, it was disgusting. "Potter!" I shouted up at him. "Potter get your bloody arse down here!" Make no mistake, when I want to I can project my voice. "Potter!"

Before I got the attention of the seeker however, one of the beaters noticed me. Dean Thomas. "Marlow!" I looked up and mentally kicked myself, I had just only proved it was indeed me.

"Hey mates!" he shouted, zooming around. "Slytherin! Slytherin on the pitch!"

"Fuck and I'm not even on the bloody team," I muttered.

Suddenly, someone whooshed over my head, nearly decapitating me. I looked and met the hateful gaze of the Weasley girl. "Slytherin scum," she growled.

"Whoa!" I shouted as I nearly got decapitated by another chaser. "Fuck! I just want to talk to Harry fucking Potter! Ah!" I had to hit the deck (so to speak) when a bludger came shooting towards me. When I got up, the next thing I knew I was being lifted off the ground because my collar was hooked on the edge of a broomstick.

"This is fucking harassment!" I screamed. "Let me the fuck down!"

"Xandra?" I looked ahead and saw Seamus Finnegan hovering on his broom. "What do you want?" he asked darkly.

"Not to be ten meters in the hair for one," I said. "I am looking for Harry Potter."

"He's up there," Seamus pointed.

"Help me!" I said getting extremely freaked out about this height.

"Nah, let us have some more fun with the slytherin," whichever gryffindor operating the broom said.

"Oh isn't this peachy," I muttered. "Seamus, help!"

Just when it looked as though he was about to reach out and grab me, someone shouted for him to look and all went black. God it sucks to be a slytherin when you don't have back up.

I woke up in response to the cold water. Literally. I screamed and tried to get the water out of my eyes and look around. When the onslaught stopped, I realized I was in a locker room. "Thank god, you're alive." I turned and saw wonderboy breathing a sigh of relief.

"What happened and do you have a cigarette?"

"No and you were hit by a bludger."

I got to my feet and started ringing out my clothes. I was trying to talk myself into being comfortable with the situation and making a move but it wasn't so easy. "Well thanks."

"For what?" he asked.

I turned and looked at him. He was covered in dirt and sweat. Quidditch pads were strapped to him and I hated myself for finding him attractive. Slytherin guys never looked like this. They never just don't care or forget about their state of being. But it looked as though our Mr. Potter didn't even know he had mud smeared on his face.

"For not letting me be viciously raped on the quidditch pitch," I said with an all too calm look on my face.

He fidgeted at the awkward situation. "Well, we're even now."

I smirked. "Not quite." I turned on the shower, soaking him.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted. "Turn it off! Turn it off!" I did.

"Why didn't you appear for detention, bringing me back to why you endangered my life."

"Practice . . ."

"I am sure Snape will love that," I mused. "Skipping detention for quidditch. I smell a suspended seeker."

"Oh god you wouldn't . . ." he looked at me pleadingly.

"I would." I moved to the door but he put his arm in front of me.

"I am not letting you out of here then."

I smirked. "What do you plan to do with me? Throw me up against the wall and ravage me?"

"What?"

I laughed, "Whatever, Potter. Tata." I ducked under his arm and headed for the door. He shouted for me to wait. He grabbed my shoulder and I slipped, falling backwards right into him. Wonderboy and I collapsed onto the floor. I rolled over and found myself in full body contact with my target. Better than I am sure Blaise or Teddy was doing.

I bore into his eyes as I pondered my next move. Suddenly, I felt something pushing against the side of my knee. I smirked internally then leaned down to kiss him. This was all apart of my plan. Except, I wasn't planning on being pushed away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as I rolled off.

"Kissing you, or are you daft?" I replied.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked, in a husky frustrated voice. "It's driving me insane! First you're blackmailing me then your kissing me? What are you?"

" I am," I said, resting on my elbows as he stood up. "Very attracted to you. And from the lump in your pants, you're attracted to me as well."

He blushed violently but sputtered on. "Is revenge or something? Where are the cameras, Marlow?"

"Look, you're frustrated Potter. Let's go for a quicky in the show."  
He gave me a look of disgust and I mentally kicked myself. Only slitherin boys go for the stuff. Well… Justin did too but I am sure he isn't like all Hufflepuffs. I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off. "Don't say anything, Marlow. God I left you unconscious."

"Why didn't you?" I asked as he stormed out of the locker room. I think he said something with an F.

I sat there on the floor for a while until my fingers wandered up to my head. I looked at them. Blood. "Fuck," I cursed.

"Xandra?" I looked up and saw Seamus, all muddy in the doorway. God he looked good. "Are you okay?"

"I'm bleeding," I said through clenched teeth, the wound and begun to sting.

He rushed towards me and looked at it. "Ah hell," he said. "Hang on," he reached inside his uniform and ripped a piece of clothe that was untouched by mud. He began do dab and clean the wound.

"Really, you don't have to do this," I tried to protest but he held me still.

"I'd feel too guilty if I didn't."

I let a small smile flash across my face. "So why have you been avoiding me?" I asked casually.

He hesitated. "You never told me you were in slytherin."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it matters!" he said. "Bloody hell you're friends with that Malfoy prat."

"Depends what you mean by friend."

"Everytime I see you, you are with him."

"He isn't the only one," I replied. "You never seemed to notice before Potter told you."

"Yeah . . .well . . . I don't be looking at him that much."

"Kind of presumptuous to think that Malfoy and I are the same then." I looked up at his face and he looked at me as well.

See the funny thing is, I am quite like Malfoy. Not just family wise but sex drive wise and people skills-wise. Got to get your kicks while you can right? Perhaps that theory is what led to my failure with Harry Potter and a shag Seamus Finnegan in the Gryffindor shower. At least all the effort wasn't wasted.

Author's Note: There we go, chapter eight. So Harry Potter seems to be resisting against Xan's silver tongue and Seamus is back! See you all in the next chapter!


	9. Singled Out: Coupled Up

Disclaimer: I only own Xan

Author's Note: A big thanks to those who have reviewed, especially Poke-the-sleeping-dragon. She really made my day. Anyway, onward.

Chapter Nine: Singled Out, Coupled Up

I spent my Saturday lying in bed. I didn't move except to reach for my cigarettes. Actually that is not entirely true. At some point I finished my transfiguration essay but it was a very pleasant time. If spending your day in an empty dungeon is your idea of a good time. When I finally checked the clock, I discovered it was dinnertime so I meandered to the great hall.

I didn't get very far because a quite frantic Daphne found me. "Xan! Xan! Come quick!"

"What is it?" I wasn't exactly shocked by Daphne's behavior, she gets giddy sometimes.

"Draco and Harry Potter just got into a fight!" this caused the cigarette to fall from my lips. We ran out to the courtyard and I didn't have time to wonder just why this pertained to me.

Out in the courtyard, the usual suspects were holding off and taunting their respective gryffindor rivals. I pushed passed Colin Creevey and grabbed Blaise. "What's going on?"

He looked at me apprehensively and the sounds of Granger screaming for the two boys to stop filled the gap. Before Blaise answered, the brawlers answered my question. "Say it again, Potter! Just try and insult a slytherin again!" Draco got wonderboy right in the nose and blood was everywhere.

"Do something, Marlow!" Granger called.

"Why me?"

"Because this is about you!"

My eyes widened in surprise and I initially was going to let them brawl but then I saw the tip of McGonagall's hat. "Fuck Draco," I said, grabbing him and yanking him off Potter. "Take is arm," I said to Zabini. Draco fell limp as though he had been the one beaten. Potters blood was all over his face and robes.

"What is going on here?" McGonagall demanded.

"Malfoy bloody attacked me!" wonderboy said, holding his nose.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Malfoy?" she turned to us.

Like the loyal right hand man I am, I spoke first. "It is obvious that Potter inflicted more damage than Malfoy here and moreover –"

"Shut up, Marlow you weren't here for half the fight!" someone shouted.

"How about Mr. Malfoy tells me what happened," McGongall said in that sharp, condescending voice of hers.

Draco narrowed his eyes in wonderboy's direction. "He insulted one of my people."

"I need specifics Mr. Malfoy."

He looked at her with eyes nearly identical to the ones that he had given wonderboy. "He called Alexandra Marlow a whore." I found myself silenced and staring. God damn, and to think I was banking on the idea he wouldn't snitch. Bugger.

"I don't think that constitutes giving a classmate a bloody nose, Mr. Malfoy but I will leave your punishment to Professor Snape. As for you Mr. Potter," she said turning to her own. "You come with me." That is what I love about McGongall. She punishes her own students too.

"Let's go," Draco said, sneering haughtily at the gryffindors we passed. Once we got down to the dungeon corridors he seemed to be walking fine. But Pansy was clinging to him anyway.

"Are you sure you're alright? You were so brave, Draco."  
"Did you see Potter's nose?" Teddy said with a laugh. "Bleeding like a fucking river."

"This calls for a celebration," Blaise said thoughtfully. "Not only did we win our game. We put those gryffindorks back in their place."

"Should I head down to the kitchens?" I asked. A full day of rest and I was up for a bit of drinking. Slytherin parties are always so entertaining.

"I'll go with you," Draco said.

"But –" Pansy began.

"Tell them all the good news before I get there, okay babe," he threw her a wink. Morgan gave me a not-this-again look.

"Well then let's go, gimpy," I said. "Want a cigarette?"

"Yeah," he replied. I gave him one and he quickly lit up. When Draco smokes, he has this illusive look to him. He has that bad boy look down to his bones. I would be lying if I said I didn't find him sexy. If he doesn't open his mouth, his image evokes a fantasy almost. You know, a passionate relationship with a dashing man filled with . . .well passion. Sadly, the second Draco open's his mouth, if you still have your wits about you (many don't) it's crushed.

"What was so important about Potter insulting me that so eagerly broke his nose?" I asked as we slipped into the secret passage to the kitchens. "I though only gryffindors were that spontaneous."

He laughed. "How like you, Marlow. You aren't the only calculating one. I planned it. Zabini and Nott overheard it, pressured Potter about it, then I pounced. It was quite thrilling really."

I chuckled, "And here I thought you were defending my honor. Tragic."

"Sorry Marlow. You're not that amazing. Shagable but not amazing."

"Oh and just who is amazing to the great Draco Malfoy?" I asked with a roll of my eyes. In truth his words were repeats of idle comments I have received from all the men I surrounded myself with in my life. I remember, hah, my uncles and father were discussing business when I was young and idly said to me, 'Make a lot of money, Xandra.' When I asked why he responded, 'you're never going to be pretty enough topay for.' Ouch right? Doesn't sting so much anymore.

"What Xan Marlow doesn't know already?" he mocked.

"Fuck off and let's get the fucking –" We both stopped. Two dark figures were intertwined ahead of the tunnel.

"Shit," I hissed. "They coming."

"I can see that," Draco snapped irritably. "Get of against the wall."

I glared at him, understanding his exact implications. Nice thing about your own house, or at least slytherin. You understand eachother quite well. "Better make it good, Malfoy."

"Fuck you, Marlow."

"You did say I was shagable." Right after I finished my sentence he pushed me up against the wall and pressed himself against me, as though we were making out. His body pretty much covered me and whoever had been coming towards us, began to pass. What surprised me was when Draco actually started to kiss me. I forgot about the façade, that is until he pulled away.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked wiping my mouth.

"Keep that seduction up, Marlow and we might have to shag right here."

"Kinky bastard," I muttered.

"Oh yes, nicotine gets me hard," he mocked.

We entered the kitchens and had the house elves help us stock up on party goods and somehow, Draco got the house elves to carry it down to the dungeons. Leave it to him to know how to boss something around. I decided instead of going straight back to the dungeons, I would stop in the great hall and pick up a roll. I don't think Draco needs me with him in order to claim is position as slytherin prince.

"So I am just another pawn eh?" I turned and found Seamus with his arms folded looking rather pissed off. Chances of him having scene the affaire earlier (in the courtyard I mean) are high. But he still could be irritated that I haven't talked to him since I shagged his brains out. You know how Irish men are.

"What are you talking about, Seamus?" I asked looking at him dully. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

"Harry Potter? Malfoy? How many other guys are you two timing me with?"

"What do you mean? It was a shag, Seamus, not wedding vows."

"You know you want it to be more than that," I looked him up and down. My pride wouldn't let me tell him he was right.

"Oh yeah, Finnegan? Prove it," I enunciated. I stalked off. Just as I turned the corner, I slipped and fell on my face. Not exactly slytherin grace.

"Do you need a hand?"

I looked up and saw Lindsey Kognovich offering her help to me. I sneered and got to my feet. I didn't even reply for I might have tore her head off, figuratively of course. Now I was really ready for some time to unwind.

However that wasn't to be had at the slytherin party. I had a flask of firewhiskey and badly beat Blaise in a game of strip poker. Slytherins tend to find wizard's chess poofy, so we play cards. Anyway but after I was praised for my win, everyone seemed to couple up and I was left shuffling cards with Goyle.

"Why do I feel so demoted?" I asked with a sarcastic sigh, you know the kind you give yourself when you aren't being serious. I dealed out the cards for another game.

"What do you mean?" he asked in his slow, lumbering voice. It isn't that goyle's stupid, he's quite observant. He, like Crabbe, are just more passive blokes. Better at taking orders than giving them, out to save their own skin and be apart of something. Nothing really wrong with that. Those Gryffindorks would like to have you thinking these blokes couldn't put two and two together, just because they aren't stupid enough to jump up and try to start a revolution (cough-DA-cough).

"I am Draco went off to fuck Pansy into the wall, Moon is with that ravenclaw poof, Daphne ran off with Zabini for a night of abandon and I haven't gotten hit on once tonight."

"So leave and get someone to hit you."

Despite his misuse of the verb, he had a point. So I gathered up my cards mid-game and got down to hogsmeade as fast as I could. I figured it was late and I would go to the Three Broomsticks, just because when I pass out piss-assed drunk, I want to possibly be found by someone who wouldn't robe me, rape me and/or kidnap me. Shows you what neighborhood the best bars are in.

I took a seat at the bar of the Three Broomsticks and ordered up a firewhiskey. "Xan Marlow!" the bartender exclaimed. It took me a second to remember who he was. "What are you doing here?"

"I got to school at Hogwarts, Manny."

"Yeah but the only slytherin I've seen has been the Baddock kid. Little playboy."

"More like slut," I said as I took a sip of my drink. Manny is a cousin from my mother's side. Yes the mother that no long exists. He tried to get in my father's favor but failed. Couldn't even get his hands on the Marlow name for protection.

So I talked with my cousin and drank firewhiskey . . . and drank . . .and drank. Until Manny broke away from me. "Hey there, Harry." I looked up, a glum Harry Potter was coming over, apparently not having seen my face.

"Can I get some firewhiskey, Manny?"

"Bloody hell, why is everyone so depressed tonight?"

"What do you mean?" wonderboy asked.

"You, Xan a bunch of other gryffindors."

"Xan? Xan Marlow?"

I turned to him. "The one and only."

He burried his face in his hands and groaned. "God dammit! You're everywhere."

I smirked, very drunk. "Why don't we play a drinking game, Potter."

He must have been depressed because he agreed. I never took back the liquor, I had him do it, so we could be on an even playing field. I had forgotten all about the events of earlier today.

"Hey Potter," I said after he seemed rather tipsy. "I challenge you to a game of strip poker!"

"You're on," he said, looking as though his eyes would roll out of his skull.

"Can I get the back room, Manny?" I called.

"Sure," my cousin replied lazily.

We were sober enough to remember how to play poker. With each loss we kept knocking them back and clothes were coming off. Shirt and pants for wonderboy eventually and I had about two more items than he. "Bloody hell how did you get that?" he exclaimed as I won again.

"Shirt off, wonderboy," I said, taking another drink.

We played again and this time he won. "Your shirt as well, Marlow!" I had a thin tank top underneath.

I won next hand. "Pants, Potter!" He cursed and discarded them. He was so sexy in his boxers.

I lost my tank top next. Bra and trousers now.

Suddenly, he stopped and he was staring across the small table at me. He picked up his wand and quickly muttered a spell. My hair was suddenly black again. "Ya know . .. you're really pretty, Mar-mar," he was drunkenly stuttering my name.

"Xandra," I corrected. God I was so smashed. "You aren't too bad yourself, Harry. Quiddish has been good to ya."

I don't know how it happened but next thing I know, we are upon eachother, kissing and making out with such force you thought the world was ending. It was a great feeling. "I want you," he whispered, in between kisses.

"I want you, Harry," I whispered with a slight slur in between kisses. His hands were on my belt, mine were in his hair and on his boxers and then, I was just about to rip off those thin shorts when

I passed out. I woke up Monday morning in my own bed.

Author's Note: There we are. Sorry it took so long. I really appreciate feedback. I hope you all enjoyed it. See you in the next chapter!


	10. Life in the Fast Lane

Disclaimer: you know this, guys

Author's Note: Thank you very much for the positive feedback, I'll admit the last chapter seems a bit discombobulated but it all apart of the scene. Anyway, I hope that we will set up more Harry/Xan action in this chapter, more devious tricks and does my public request a sex scene where someone doesn't pass out?

Chapter Ten: Life in the Fast Lane

I sat in the slytherin common room rubbing my temples. I had the worst hangover in my entire life. The worst. I had woken up with no memory how I had gotten it. Moon had to help me dress I was so fucked up. God . . . I just wanted to die. I was swilling potions and pills like you wouldn't believe. The strange thing is that I usually don't get hangovers, so it leads me to wonder what the fuck I was doing.

"Holy fuck," Draco exclaimed, walking into the common room with Blaise and Teddy in step. "What in the bloody hell happened to you?"

I glared up at them. Naturally, the three were just glowing, ejaculated in less than 12 hours. How I hated them right now. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

"Yeah," Teddy said squatting down to eye level with me. "You look even more hideous than usual. Even with your natural hair."

I sneered at him. That was uncalled for. I knew that. I wasn't a natural beauty by any means and waking up with a bitch hangover doesn't do much for you. My black locks were in knots and I didn't have the competency to put on makeup. "Sod off," I growled.

"Can't you at least brush your hair?" Blaise commented.

"Sod off," I repeated.

"Whatever," Teddy said standing you. "You won't be winning the bet looking like that." He was right and I hated that. So as I lay on the couch with a throbbing head, I wondered just how I could make their lives hell.

With five minutes to get to potions, I realized I would have to take the thinking on to road. I unsuccessfully charmed my hair, leaving it a ratty ponytail. God, one of these days I might want to take the time and actually look nice. For once.

I turned a sharp corner trying to get to Snape's class ( I was late) and someone, I crashed with someone. Sprawled out on the floor, vision blurry, someone started to help me up. I turned and realized it was wonderboy. My mind was elsewhere and I unconsciously said, "Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome, Xandra."

I stopped, turned back, stared. He was staring at me too as though he had felt the same unconscious pull. Oh bloody hell. Don't tell me that whatever I had done Saturday night had not involved him.

I ran to Snape's.

"Good morning, Ms. Marlow," he drawled as I went to take my seat, obviously behind the expected hour. "Late Mr. Potter," Snape said sharply when wonderboy appeared just seconds after me.

Throughout the entire lecture wonderboy and I kept stealing glances at eachother. I hated this. I had no idea what I had done but by now I was sure it involved him too. Snape had busted him for being hungover. I had to figure this out.

I struggled to stay conscious throughout the class but once it ended I was out that door. Alas, I wasn't fast enough because Harry Potter was about five steps ahead of me. "Marlow!" I spun around at the sound of my name.

It was Ronaldo. "Can I talk to you?""About what?" I asked. I wasn't exactly in the mood for this.

"I need information."

I looked around before replying. "Walk with me." I led him up an alternate flight of stairs, the long route to charms. "So what do you need?"

"What do you know about who Hermione's dating?"

I smirked, "What your best friend wouldn't even tell you who she was involved with?" His cheeks blushed a frustrated red. "I'll take that for a no."

"Just do you know anything or not?"

I picked up the pace a little bit. It has been my experience making someone walk fast while extracting deals can be very profitable. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Maybe I have a name or maybe I have a history. What will you give me?"

"Wait, what do you mean what will I give you? I thought –"

"Nothing comes without a price, Weasley," I grinned. "You off all people should know that."

He thought for a moment and just when he opened his mouth, I filled in. "You give me information on a few people from gryffindor house."

"Fine," he growled. "Just tell me what you know."

I smirked, payback for Mr. Zabini. "Rumor has it Hermione Granger is seriously attracted to Mr. Zabini, if you catch my drift. First hand knowledge says she is the hottest shag around." I threw him a wink. "I hope that helps." It was so entertaining to watch Ronaldo come over with anger for a flight of stairs. I almost wanted to help him. Almost.

"Now in return," I began. His head snapped to me, as though he had forgotten about that part. "I want Harry Potter."

"What?" he exclaimed. I quickly covered his mouth to shut him up as we entered a more populate hallway. This was the second time such an outburst had occurred. "No way! I am not going to rat out my best mate!"

I rolled my eyes. I considered threatening him but it probably would have done me no good. Time for a lie. "You don't have to pay me back then."

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

I heaved a sigh, "Because I don't really care about the information. Happy, Weasley?" Oh good show, Marlow. Fabulous job. He took the bait and that was that. I suppose I could have asked him something about Seamus but I highly doubt Weasley can keep a secret of any kind. I would wage my fortune that all his dorm mates know about our little deal. Save wonderboy possibly.

Later, during the last class of the day, Herbology, I was sitting next to Pansy when she said something that oddly enough, grabbed my attention. "I saw you with him."

"Huh?" I asked lighting a cigarette in the back of the greenhouse. It is a fucking layer in here. Gryffindors up front, then two miles back (figuratively speaking) slytherins. Professor Sprout hates our guts (with good reason, my father and Nott were responsible for revoking her family's estate in order to build a phoenix farm. They gave her a handsome check but she never forgave the offspring. "What od you mean you saw me?"

"I saw you with Harry Potter," she said, staring at me intently, as though I didn't know I had indeed been with wonderboy. "Draco and I were getting a um, late night drink."

"I already know he shagged you senseless so why not be straight with me," I said, blowing smoke into a plant.

She gave me a frustrated look. "You don't understand everything, Xan. You don't understand what we have."

"Yes, I do. You have a platonic relationship based on sex."

She brushed off the comment and dove into her actual point. "Speaking of platonic, care to share why you with bloody boy wonder himself?"

"I am engaged in a bet with Zabini and Theo. We each have to sleep with our specific targets, date them and take them to the Valentine's ball."

"And your target his Harry Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Who do Blaise and Theo have?"

"Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley."

"Who is Draco betting on?"

"Odds are in favor of Blaise."

She thought for a moment before saying, "Let me help you. Do something with this black rag –" she lifted up fistful of hair " -- and we will be in business."

"Shouldn't you be routing for the man that gets you off?"

"If it's platonic like you say, then he shouldn't give a rat's arse."

I grinned deviously. I knew there was a reason why I hung around with her. Her truly slytherin moments make up for her idealistic core. You know, that feminine hope that the boy you are crushing on will give you the fairytale, though at the same time she is well aware fairytales are logically impossible. That's the funny thing about wizards and witches. Many do not posses logic, of any kind.

"What did you have in mind, Parkinson?"

"Well," she said, a grin stretching across her face. "I do owe you a makeover, I might be able to do a little bit more. Clothing wise."

"You're going to turn me into a skank?"

"No," she said hotly. "I will make you so gorgeous harry fucking potter will drop dead."

"What of my skankiness?"

"NO," she nearly shouted. "Are you bloody challenging me, Marlow?"

"You bet."  
"You will eat your words," she said darkly.

About an hour later was I sitting in our dorm room with my back to the mirror. "Haven't you picked up that color three times already?"

"You aren't going to win this bet if you keep complaining."

"I am crafty, conniving and clever. Even I should be allowed some time to complain, Pansy."

"Do you want to look butch you entire life, Marlow?"

"I can still get laid. Isn't that all there is to it?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Probably because you bloody rape them."

"It's purely consensual."

"Yeah right."

Pansy just rolled her eyes and continued her "makeover". Honestly I don't know what could take this long. If I had known I probably wouldn't have volenteered to her torture.

"There. Finished."

For as long as it had taken, it suddenly didn't feel like that much time. I was spun around to face the mirror and it was phenominal. My hair was a silky jet black and had a light curl down by my shoulders, my face was no longer spanking pale but made a crew with blush and blemishes of all kinds had just disappeared. My eye color stood out from the pale pink eyeshadow and my lips were full and actually had color.

"You are inmpressive, Pansy."

"Damn right," she said folding her arms and admiring her handiwork. "Now all we have to get you to do is where some nicer robes."

"I will stick with the ones people know me for," I said, moving towards the door. "How else will the recognize me."

"Fine, fine," she said waving her hand. "I don't want you in my clothes anyway. So what is your plan?"

"I always have a plan," I said.

"Mind sharing?"

I smirked. "I am going to make Potter an offer he can't refuse."

"What you mean blackmail?"

"No, just trap him and his conscience."

"Oh yes, I've heard gryffindors have a lot of that."

"Thank you, Pansy," I said grabbing my cloak and moving to the exit.

"Wait!" she protested. "I am coming with you!"

I raised my eyebrows then shrugged. "Why not?"

We hurried down to the pitch and were just in time to see the slytherins advance, in preparation to kick the gryffindors out. "What happened to you, Marlow?" Blaise was the first to notice me.

"Don't tell me, Pansy got 'er hands on you," Morgan said twisting her face.

"Draco seems to like it," I said with a smirk. The blond was gaping at me.

My comment brought him out of his trance and he snorted. "If I knew you weren't such a bitch then maybe we could talk." Everyone 'oo'ed.

"I see what you're trying to do, Marlow," Theo said. "But it won't work." He took his broom and took a few strides towards the gryffindors. "Oi, Weasley!" he shouted. This should be amusing. "Is it legal to be playing with knockers like those going up and down on the pitch?"

Blaise and I shared a glance. There was no way he was going to win the bet talking like that.

"Go back to your hole, Nott!" she shouted back.

"Only if I can take you with me!" when there was no immediate response, he turned to us, grinning in triumph. That expression was properly knocked off his face when he was hit in the head with a rock.

"Fuck!" he shouted, rubbing his head. "Bloody bint."

"You're going to have to try harder if you want to get into my pants, Nott!" Gotta giver the Weasley girl props for being feisty.

"Oh we all know you're a slut," Draco called. He had money on Nott which was the only reason why he cared.

"Stuff it, Malfoy!" Ronaldo looked like he was going to burst.

"Sod off!" Harry contributed.

Was it just me or was Seamus staring at me?

"Make me!" Draco challenged. Why must it always be about him him him? I mean for god's sake it was Theo who provoked them first. Perhaps this was why this bloke was such a prat. Theo just has a temper. I mean, I would too, in fact we all do. Thus the result of a represive childhood. Still, they were both unsmooth prats.

So Ronaldo and wonderboy got up into Theo and Draco's face, both sides throwing insults while both teams circled around them. Pretty much cheering them on. While I am usually up for kicking some ass, I had business to take care of.

"Draco, Teddy, don't you dare lay a hand on Potter."

"What did you just say, Marlow?" they both looked at me in surprise, as did everyone else except Pansy.

"I don't want you hurting my bloke," I said calmly. Ronaldo was staring at me with an open mouth, Seamus looked like a statue and Potter was . . . quite quick to pick up on it. He shoved Draco off of him and I took his arm, kissing him on the cheek. "Have a good practice boys," I said giving my kind a wink. "Come on baby," I said in a degrading manner to wonderboy before guiding him off the pitch.

"I know what you're doing, Marlow," he hissed as we walked.

"Oh really? What is it pumpkin?" I was having so much fun it should be a crime.

"You won't win," he continued. "You will be eating you lies by the end of this game."

"Game?" I faked shock and gave him sweet eyes. "I was hoping you would appreciate my dressing up for you, Potter. It's shows quite genuinely my intentions."

He shifted and I knew Pansy must have done something right. He regained himself at least in words quite quickly. "I don't know exactly what type of stunt you and your slytherin lot are trying to pull but two can play your game."

I smirked. This was getting more and more interesting. Not to mention more and more to my advantage. "Can you play this?" I pushed him up against the wall of the lockerroom and gave him a kiss he wouldn't likely forget. Neither would the two quidditch teams watching.

"No going back now, is there, wonderboy?" I said with a smirk that shows I am oh-so-clever.

My expression changed when his suddenly mirrored mine. "No. No there isn't . . . Xandra." He said my first name with a devilish challenge then he bent me over and kissed me in a passionate exercise of exhibitionism. He proved himself not second to my kissing abilities in any way.

This was going to be entertaining.

Author's Note: So sorry this took me forever to get up. I just wasn't feeling it for a few days there. Anyway, the plot has sped up a bit. Exciting eh? See you all in the next chapter! I would love your feedback.


	11. Motion Sickness

Disclaimer: I only own the characters I put in here to make the story interesting.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the feedback. I thank je-suis-une-pizza for pointing out my utterly terrible proofing. I will try to work on that. I am glad people still like the story though.

Chapter Eleven: Motion Sickness

I splashed water onto my face. Make up really is just that. Make–Up. I look in the dusty mirror and still see the same cynic who is one step away from being orphaned. Ugh, sorry 'bout that. Letter from my uncle has just got me in a bit of a sour mood.

"So tell me again what you did to him that had the ravenclaw all in a snit," Malcolm said while mixing his potions assignment on the floor. We were in the girl's bathroom finishing up an assignment. Well, I had done my portion and was now reapplying the makeup I have gotten into the habit of wearing.

"Oh that?" I replied nonchalantly. "Well the first day after Potter and I began our . . . our . . ."

"Facade? Experiment? Challenge?"

"Challenge, that is it," I said having just found the right word. "Anyway, the day after I found him flirting with Chang. Being the good girlfriend that I am, I had to just go and stake my claim."

Malcolm laughed. "You didn't!"

"Oh I did, Baddock." I threw him a wink in the mirror. "Her eyes looked like they were about to come out of her pretty little head. Almost felt sorry for him as he tried to explain why he was going out with me. But then again, he was the one who wouldn't back down."

"Ah yes, punish the bloke for having pride."

"He's damn stubborn that's what he is," I said, snapping shut my eyeshadow. "It will be sweet seeing Teddy seduce Snape."

"Oh god, Weasley is still giving him the cold shoulder. That bloke has no idea what turns a girl's buttons," he shook his head as he spoke.

"Hey Malcolm, you talk to the boys a lot right?"

"How may I inform the fountain of knowledge?" he responded without looking up.

I looked over at him. "Draco shed any light to you as to why he was so pissed off?"

He glanced up, "You mean what happened the other day?"

Let me explain. Word got around that a gryffindor, wonderboy, the famous Harry Potter was property of Xan Marlow. Slytherin house had mixed reactions. I am sure the rest of the school was in denial but they don't really matter.

The girls primarily wanted details, which I made of with pleasure. Pansy had taken it upon herself to create a pool open to all slytherin girls. The top 20 boys from Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and even hufflepuff were on an underground list, similar to that which I helped make out for the boys. It was slowly becoming cool to say you had spent a drunken night with a boy from another house. Now, this type of thing doesn't consume our whole being but honestly what else are we supposed to do with our time?

The boys on the other hand . . . it's been mixed. Blaise can't stop encouraging me and spreading the word, Teddy can't stop calling me a conniving bitch and Malcolm hasn't made any opinion clear. As for the other boys in slytherin house, they have their own agenda so as long as I am spreading the good word of slytherin, they're cool. Until of course the day comes when he have to protect our own.

It's complex like that.

But what really was significant about this past week, was how Draco responded. The boy whom I have known since dancing classes had a very big problem with a trusted member of his posse "dating" or even being seen with Harry Potter. My act coming off as totally genuine, Malfoy's reaction was quite genuine. He quite loudly proclaimed me a traitor and threatened to tell my father.

"You have to admit," Malcolm began. "You could have chosen a better martyr. Because of Potter and his fucking role in the order your father is in prison on a grocery list of charges. I mean you're lucky your whole bloody family isn't bust. I thought you would want to string the bloke up by the balls."

I smirked. "Who say's I don't?"

"You really are a bitch, Marlow. I love it."

My smirk suddenly fell. "The only problem is what happens when my uncles do find out. I'm play both ends towards the middle."

"Well, what is more important?"

"They both have to due with honor," I snapped.

Malcolm shrugged and continue mixing the potion. "I say go for it."

"Huh?"

"Live it up, Marlow, I shouldn't have to tell you twice."

"Explain, Baddock. Now."

"You do everything under the radar, Xan and now that you're in the spotlight you have cold feet. Figure you'll be lucky to finish out your years here, might as well enjoy yourself."

"I always enjoy myself, Malcolm."

"Then why are you so afraid of what blondy thinks, eh? You aren't Malfoy's bloody lacky and don't worry about wanting to shag the boy wonder."He winked at me, "Might come in handy later."

"Oh my god, Malcolm." I said as I left the bathroom.

"You know I won't tell anyone," he called after her then quickly focused on finishing up the assignment.

The lifestyle Malcolm is referring to might seem doable, might seem even logical to a slytherin but it is very difficult to live like that. You have to play your cards right, get all your plans laid out on the checkered board, forsee and respond to every possible action then may you play the king. It is a very calculated game only for the most ambitious of us. None of us are excluded. Draco's interests must mirror his father's interests in order to keep being funded as the prince of slytherin (lucky for him these interests include hating Harry Potter), Pansy had to make the lifetime benchmarks her parents set down for her if she wanted any type of acknowledgment from her family, while Teddy and I have to make sure we maintain the trust of the deatheater community that supports us fatherless folk. But that's a whole other story.

But at the same time, I was deadlocked in a double contest. One with Potter and one with Teddy and Blaise, both involving my pride. It was risky business no doubt but since I was hornier than Draco during christmas vacation, I was willing to try and hit two birds with one stone.

I found wonderboy in the library with Ronaldo while Granger did homework. Ronaldo saw me first and Potter didn't appear thrilled to see me. I greeted him with a smirk, Granger didn't bother to look up. I wrapped my arms around wonderboy's neck and bit at his earlobe, "Let's say you and I go somewhere else. Meet me in the corridor." I released him from my grasp then calmly exited the library.

Like clockwork, wonderboy met me outside.

"What do you want, Marlow," he asked with that sullen look of his. "I don't have all day."

"I was thinking," I said with a smirk slowly spreading across my face, "that we could go and start something more . . .exciting," I slide a finger down the center of his chest.

He looked at me with dull eyes and I stopped mid-smirk. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to call myself conceited but no one turns up free sex . . . do they? No . . . no . . . "I'm sorry Marlow but what exactly are you doing?"

I stared at him. It would take a humbling blow for me to get my composure back. Such a blow would not come. I wouldn't allow it. So I faltered. "Oh come off it Potter, everyone wants to get their rocks off. Even you," I spat with a snarl. Forget the bloody temptress act.

"Not everyone is as carnal as you slytherin lot," he retaliated.

I glared at him. "So what do you do with your time? Role knuts?"

"Funny," he said with sarcasm I didn't know he possessed. "I enjoy being with friends something I know _you_ can't say you have. I play quidditch, I get outside, something that you obviously don't experience by the look of your skin." I was gaping at him in shock and anger, you know what i am talking about. "Oh and I go on dates," he added. "With real people. I don't sneak around for kicks, blackmail or play games. Something according to Seamus you are an expert in."

I was petrified with anger and shock. This was a verbal blow, a slap in the face. A well thought out one no less.

"What? Cat got the tongue of slytherin's best and brightest?"

I blinked and then attacked. "You bloody wanker. You think you have any ground to make statements and me and my life well I hate to inform you but you are terribly mistaken. While you go attempting suicide on your bloody broomstick, some of us are doing something real, tangent. You should thank me, Potter because you will be choking on my dust by the time you realize what world you really live in."

I pulled back with a sneer on my face that slowly faded. I never was this angry. Why was I so angry? Oh god . . . I was just like my father. Hah, funny. Really fucking ironic. Shoot me. Now.

I noticed wonderboy was looking at me funny. "What?"

"You've never ridden a broom . . . have you?"

"My family doesn't support their offspring trying to commit suicide." Actually, that was a total lie . . . well partial . . no, it was a total lie.

A grin broke onto his face. "Are you still up for a little excitement, Marlow?"

I gave him a wary look. "I know exactly what you are thinking, Potter. There is no way you could ever get me on some bloody broom."

"But I am your boyfriend," he said faking shock. "Why would i have a girl who doesn't like quidditch."

"You take words out of contex."

He rolled his eyes. "Just meet me okay? Pitch–ten at night. Alright?"

The intelligent side of my brain finally kicked in. Or is it the coniving side? "On one condition."

"Whatever."

I grabbed his face with both hands and shoved him up against the wall, kissing him so hard I thought his lips my bleed. But just when he started to return it, I kneed him in the balls. I let him slump to the floor. "That was satisfying," I said as I wiped my mouth of spit and left him in the corridor. "See you tonight, pumpkin," I called over my shoulder. At least I had redeamed myself somewhat.

That night I was exiting Snape's office rather late and heading straight for the pitch when I ran into Peeves. "Well if it isn't the slytherin eyes and ears. What are you doing out so late?" he said, looking at me leeringly.

I raised the scrap of paper. "Note from the leader."

"But you are far from the dungeons now aren't you?"

I saluted him loosely. "Just doing my moral duty of spreading the good word of hearsay."

He replied in kind. This was a long standing came since my first year. Best make nothing of it. "Carry on, soldier and tell that pretty boy blondie to lighten up."

"You know how civilians are."

Actually, I was in Snape's office because I was sorting out transportation issues. My father's trial was going to be a long one. Stretching from Saturday evening to Sunday evening. Snape wouldn't be able to chaparone me and he vocalized Dumbledore's concern that if I was released into the care of my uncles I wouldn't ever come back to school. So he told me to find someone to take me. He suggested Draco and Lucius Malfoy or the Zabinis, Avery or Baddock. I accepted all those choices but said I would leave it open til I have more contact with my Uncles.

Anyway, here I am coming onto the pitch without so much as a sign of wonderboy. If he rats me out I swear to god. I don't know why I put up with this. It is driving me insane. So insane that after our confrontation in the hall i threw every last piece of makeup in the sink then spent the rest of the time picking up information regarding the world of hogwarts.

"Where you?" I called. "Bloody bastard," i said under my breath.

"Up here." I looked up and nearly fell over. He was ten feet above me.

"So what do you want," I said fixing myself in a confident stance with my arms folded across my chest.

"You're not wearing any makeup," he commented.

"I got sick of it."

"You look better without it."

"Even though I am pale as a bloody vampire," I commented idly.

"You need to get outside more."

"Who are you to talk, Potter?"

"Trust me. I lived under stairs for eleven years." I looked at him with a hint of surprise. Hadn't expected that. "What's your excuse?"

I looked him up and down for a moment. He was in just normal gryffindor robes. Same messy hair. Cruddy glasses, but brilliant eyes. Clear, bright and slightly tanned skin. He reaked of honestly and enthusiasm. It made me sick. I had to humor him. "I being cultured as the heir of a legacy." He raised his eyebrows at me. "Yes," I replied. "It does take up time."

"Well let's change that shall we," he said. "Get on." He presented his broom.

I looked from the broom to him and back again. "You can't be serious."

"You have never been on one and you are a witch! The only reason I was denied one was because I lived with muggles!"

"Oh you poor soul," I replied automatically. "But there is still no way I am getting on that."

"Why not?" he said with a frustrated sigh.

"Because you, just hours ago, implied that you would be happy to see me in a bloody ditch! Dead! Or at least severely injured."

"What? I never said that."

"Yes you did!"

"Only because you were coming on to me."

"Oh yeah right. What better way for you to win this little battle of wills than pushing me off a broom in the middle of the night."

"Only to have my team find you the next morning. Give me more credit."

"You can't expect me to believe you are doing this for a slytherin like me out of the goodness of your gyrffindor heart."

"You're a real cynic you know that?"

"No, I am realistic. You underestimate me."

"Are you going to get on or not?"

"Not until you tell me what this is really about?"

He blew and exasperated sigh. "Fine. To tell you the truth I have no idea what I am doing. I just find it sick and wrong that someone who practically Draco Malfoy's right hand has never been on a broom. What do they not let girls ride brooms in slytherin?"

"My roommate is on the team."

"What is it that Malfoy just doesn't want you doing anything without his approval?"

I faltered. I remembered how the boy in question had reacted to the news of my fake relationship. "He has no hand in my actions."

"Bullshit. Then you're just scared."

"You can't back me into a corner like that."

He sighed . . . again. "Xandra, come on already. I won't bite."

I stared at him. "What did you just call me?"

He seemed surprised to. God it's just like that time in the hall. "What we are "dating" yet I can't use your first name."

"I am just surprised you know it."

"Well we almost had sex in the three broomsticks I would think I would remember."

I stared at him. "Spill the fucking details Potter."

"What . . . you mean you don't remember?"

He told of how I had passed out after we were incredibly drunk. How he had with the help of Manny taken me back to the dungeons. It wasn't as bad as I was fearing but still. "Oh my god . . ."

He wore a smug look on his face, feeling power after eliciting such a reaction from me. "So are you going to get on or what?"

I sighed. This was getting tedious. "Fine. If just to get this night overwith." He grinned like a schoolboy and straddled the broom. I clumsily followed suit. "By the way," he added, redirecting my attention from my fright. "You can call me Harry."

"Why –" I was cut off by take off. His feet hit the ground and we were up in the air. I screamed and gripped onto his torso for dear life. All the bloke did was chuckle.

"How about we go slow get you used it," he said.

"You sound like you're about to lay a virgin."

"Well you are . . . figuratively speaking. But if you say so . . ." he accelerated and then went into a sharp dive. I clung tighter to him out of instinct and fought back a scream. I tried to close my eyes but it only made it worse.

"Slow down already for fuck's sake!"

"But you said . . ."

"Fuck it just slow down!" I cried.

He just chuckled as we cruised. "You know you aren't so bad once you stop –"

"Being a bitch? I've heard that one enough from Teddy."

"I was going to say, stop trying to win every sentence. Who's Teddy?"

"Theodore Nott."

He shivered. "Ew! You talk to that bloke?"

"Known him since dancing lessons."

"That ugly bloke can dance?"

"Anyone with offspring and reputation to uphold has their kids cultured. Told you it took up time."

"What else did you lot have to go through?"

I shrugged, "Dancing lessons, etiquette lessons, lessons on proper dress, that sort of thing."

"Blood hell, it sucks to be rich."

"It's not so foreign a concept, Potter. It's called status. Besides, on the upside I get everything I want."

"Everything you want eh? Well can you get me to slow down?" he suddenly accelerated, pulling loops, sending us upside while I screamed bloody murder. I was gripping his sides so hard I was hoping to break the skin, at least that would slow him down. When he jerked us around again, I thought for sure I was going to fly off, so I clung on for dear life and buried my face in his neck.

"I've heard no reason for me to slow down . . ." he taunted.

"Fuck you!" I shouted.

He just laughed. "I love it when you're mad."

"Why you little shit," I said.

"Besides you're the one fondling me."

"You know you love it," I said trying to make him uncomfortable.

"What if I do?"

"You have to take back all the insults you said earlier."

"Hm . . . no."

Bugger! Bugger! Bugger! So fucking illogical! I hate gryffindors. I hate their way of thinking. Alright . . . composure Marlow, composure.

As I got this composure back, I realized just how sick this broomride had made me. "Let me off," I said.

"Hm . . . no."

"Let me off this broom, Harry!"

"I am not done yet."

"Well I am," I tried to get my leg over, for we were close to the ground but I failed. I managed just to wiggle myself off the broom and fall on my ass. I swear I saw stars as I tried to regather myself and walk.

"Are you alright?" he called.

"Fuck. Brooms."

He just laughed merrily behind me. I struggled to walk straight after all that and I fell over only once. But once was enough to make him laugh some more. So I gave him the finger and once I got inside the castle, I puked.

Author's Note: there's a long one. Sorry it took me forever. I have a lot of school work that's slowing me down. Anyway I hope you liked it. I love feedback as always, it helps motivate me. Love you all and see you all in the next chapter!


	12. The Boy Who Saves the World

1Disclaimer: Don't own anything but Xan

Author's Note: I know, I know, my editing sucks. I am uploading these chapters in a hurry but I will do my best. English isn't my best language so please, try to be patient.

Chapter Twelve: The Boy Who Saves the World

I sat on the edge of the dungeon stairwell, smoking a cigarette in darkness except for the light of the torch. As if this night hadn't been bad enough, I just had to be mobbed by my roommates upon my return. They had been squealing, wanting details about Harry, apparently they had seen us on his bloody broom. I already had been feeling sick but now I felt utterly miserable. It was all going to hell. Nicotine was so far the only thing to give me any relief.

"Xandra?" I turned around sharply to find wonderboy a few steps away, apparently trying to creep up to Gryffindor tower. "What are you still doing up?"

"I am smoking in order to keep from dying of illness," the second those words left my mouth I realized just how much of a stupid statement that was. I groaned, "Fuck."

He found that amusing. "May I keep you company?"

"Should you be worried about getting caught?"

"I'll just blame it on you."

"Oh like Snape would really believe that," I said. "But he won't come around. Past his bedtime. Fag?" I offered him a cigarette and he surprisingly took it. "Isn't that against your strict gryffindor morals?"

"Isn't being within twenty feet of me and not plotting my doom against your rules?"

I laughed lightly. "You're funny, Pott-Harry-Potter-Ha–"

"Harry," he filled in.

"Well, Harry," I said, testing out his name on my tongue. "You've proved to be a worthy opponent. I didn't think the boy wonder could have so much stomach."

"You're exciting, Xandra. I'll give you that."

I looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You're being civil," I replied before taking a drag of my fag. "Didn't expect that."

"Why?" he asked, blowing smoke away from us.

I shrugged. "I might just be forced to like you as a human being."

"Oh that's good news," he said sarcastically. "So what do you say, can we be civil to each other?"

I laughed, "We can certainly give it a go."

The next day, I was doddling out of transfiguration and took a wrong turn, finding myself in the middle of a gryffindor spat on the stairwell.

"Ron, you are being ridiculous!" Granger said throwing her hands up in the air.

"Me? You're the goody-two shoes, Hermione! What is Zabini doing grabbing your arse and giving you this?" he held up a folded note. I snickered on the edge of the stairs. Blaise is certainly being aggressive.

Apparently they heard me because the duo turned sharply. "What do you want, Marlow," Ronaldo said sharply.

"Just passing through when I stumbled upon your little confrontation. If she doesn't want you, she doesn't want you, Weasley. Get over it."

"Why don't you get your own life, Ron and stop poking around mine!" she said, her hands hitting her sides just before she stormed off to her next class.

Ronaldo turned to me. "What do you know?"

I shrugged. "Gave you what I know, not my fault if I you can't use it the right way."

"What's going on, Ron?"

I spun around real fast to the sound of a new voice and in doing so I lost my balance. But I did not fall back because someone was holding me. Wonderboy had caught me. Without knowing it, I smiled. Then I promptly departed under Ronaldo's hot gaze.

Over the next three days, I tried to get alone with wonderboy and address the issue of the ball but he was either avoiding me or he was never by himself. I was quite irritated by this and the fact that Blaise had Hermione in the bag, ball-wise and I didn't know Teddy's state wasn't that comforting either. Snape and the Post continued to remind me that I needed to figure out what I was going to do for my father's trial.

Finally I devised a plan. Wonderboy had been so eager to keep up this façade because he wanted me to fall on my face. All I had to do was refocus him. Remind him just what we were doing. Sure that would send the whole civility thing straight to hell but I think this bet was more important.

I waited in the stands for Gryffindor quidditch practice to end before descending. I made eye contact with Potter before he disappeared into the locker room nearby. I got to the grass when I was suddenly inches away from Draco Malfoy.

"What do you think you are doing, Marlow?"

"Whoa, take a step back, please," I said beginning to push him away.

"No!" he shouted pushing me sharply up against the supports. "Stay away from him, Marlow. I mean it."

"I get that," I said. "But if you have failed to notice, you have no say over my life and actions Draco so please, kindly step away."

"You don't get it, Xan!" he shouted. "You cannot see him!"

"Why?"

His grip on my shoulders tightened. "Potter is a bloody wanker and –"

"Experiamus!" Draco flew off me and hit the grass. I turned to see who had helped me and my I didn't know whether or not to be surprised. Wonderboy again had perfect timing. . . fucker.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Malfoy?"

Draco pushed himself to his feet and glared daggers. "Not that it is any of your business, Potter."

"My girlfriend is my business, Malfoy."

"We were chatting."

"By pining her?"

"It isn't your business, Potter. Now move!"

"No!"

"Xan!" Draco shouted at me.

"What do you want?" I asked, moving towards him. He suddenly lashed out and grabbed my wrist and wonderboy, in response decked him. I took a step back with my eyes wide.

"Come on," wonderboy said, taking my hand quickly leading us away.

He led me into the Gryffindor lockerooms and released my hand. I fumbled quickly for a cigarette. I could tell he was looking at me but I kept my eyes downcast. We stood in silence until I lit up and took a drag.

"You shouldn't smoke," he said.

"I think the situation calls for it. Hypocrite."

"What situation?"

"Are you implying decking Draco Malfoy is defense of your . . . whatever I am to you—nothing good I'm sure, is totally normal?"

"Well it is obviously an awkward situation so I was trying to downplay it!" he said with a frustrated raise of hands.

"By criticizing my habits?"

"You shouldn't smoke!"

"You're a hypocrite! What on earth doessmoking have to do with the fact that you just punched out someone who had me pushed up against a pole for a reason you know nothing of?"

"Your welcome?"

"No, I am not thanking you, I am asking what the hell you were thinking," I said, blowing smoke over my shoulder and enunciating condescendingly.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted. He grabbed my cigarette from my lips and threw it away. "I was doing you a bloody favor by throwing that creep off of you! Are you implying you wanted him bruising you like that?"  
"I am asking why you did it when you don't know why. For all you know I deserved it." He gave me this look like I was mighty insane.

"Well just what were you two 'talking' about?"

I reached for another cigarette. "He was expressing how he disapproved of our 'relationship'."

He lashed out and grabbed my cigarette carton. "Aha! So it was my business."

"But you didn't know that at the time."

"Did you have any other plan for getting out of that situation?"

"I am asking you why do you care?"

He threw my cigarettes and a frustrated yell escaped his throat. I had made circles around him with words and it obviously drove him nuts. "You are so infuriating!"

"I am just asking."

"Are you masochistic or something? You keep talking as though you enjoy being thrown up against a wall and slapped around."

"Maybe I do, you don't know."

He glared at me. Well, not at me but more the concept I spoke of. "No one likes that, you slytherins are no exception."

I rolled my eyes. "You just love playing hero don't you?"

"It's not being a hero it is being a good person!"

"It makes no difference," I said looking at him. "Draco will only finish getting his point across later this evening. It isn't a very big deal. I am not some abused girlfriend. Now if you will excuse me," I said, moving to the door. I bent down and picked up my spilled cigarettes before exiting the locker rooms. I left wonderboy in tangled web my words had woven.

That night, I was lounging in the slytherin common room with Pansy, Malcolm and Avery when Draco came in with a fistful of letters. "Nice shiner, Draco," I said before taking a drag.

"Fuck you, Marlow," he snarled as he walked past us.

"Oh I am so wounded."

"Rot in hell, you bloody slag," he threw the letters at me.

I quickly gathered them up and looked them over. I pushed aside the tempting wide-eyed expression and instead chuckled. "Well this is interesting isn't it?"

"That smirk will come off your face once you read what the hell they say."

"Why Draco, from the jist of it, you're my –"

"Shut up!" he barked.

The three around us were silent.

"Oh relax Draco," I said puffing on my cigarette. "This isn't a big deal." I was lying. Totally lying. This was terrible, but what good would it do me to get all worked up? Only encourage him to freak out, that's what.

"You have to end whatever the bloody hell you have with Potter."

"But Draco it is so entertaining," Pansy interjected.

"Not to mention you, Zabini and Nott have a bet going," Malcolm said nonchalantly.

"What?" Draco said turning sharply to the tanned boy.

"You mean you forgot?" Avery said with a raise of his thin eyebrows. "Two of 'em and Nott betting who can lay a Gryffindor first."

His blue eyes widened in anger. "You're ruining my life for the sake of a bet? I am going to kill you, Marlow!"

I ignored him. "You know," I said turning to Pansy. "It may be a bet I am getting a little attached to the bloke." Ha, yeah right.

"You bloody slag," he growled, like a cat about to pounce. "Why Potter? Why not some other slut you pray upon? You just wait, you will be the crucified one!"

"If I go you are coming with me."

"You're a traitor, Marlow!"

"Come Draco," Malcolm interjected awkwardly. "It's just a bet."

I rolled my eyes and lit up another fag. "Relax Draco, after the bloody ball, Potter will be out the picture and you'll be free to shag him senseless."

Draco must have been really worked up because he didn't even seem to register the insult. He just glared at me and stepped closer, pressing himself against me threateningly. I blew smoke in his face and kneed him in the balls. "Prick."

I grabbed my cloak and cigarettes on my way to the door.

"Where are you going, Xan? It's after curfew," Pansy piped.

"The testosterone in the room is suffocating," I replied hotly. I shoved the stupid letters into my pocket and exited the common room.

Draco could be such a bloody wanker sometimes. I knew his words had a point and spilling the fact that my relationship with Potter was all apart of a bet was a bit disheartening. But I suppose that is the price I pay, a little entertainment for smoother sailing.

I went through five cigarettes before I stopped in a dark corridor. I leaned back against the wall, pinching the bridge of my nose and taking deep breaths. I regained myself and puffed on another cigarette.

A giggle broke me out of my trance. I pushed off the wall and carefully walked down the corridor. Suddenly, I tripped. Boom! Fell smack dab on my face. I bit my lip to hold back my yell. My jaw clenched so tightly that I felt a bit of blood on my tongue.

Finally I pushed myself up and looked around. Nothing. Not even a trace of Peeves. I continued down the corridor and peered around the corner. At the bottom of the stairs, Blaise Zabini had Hermione Granger pressed up against a pillar. Worst of all, she seemed to be enjoying it.

"That ruddy bastard."

I thought for a brief moment that I had just spoken, but when I realized I had not, I whipped around in shock. No one was to be seen.

"You bloody wanker!"

Blaise jerked up from his activities. "Marlow?"

"It isn't me!" I exclaimed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere Ronaldo was charging for the stairs. It happened so fast I can't exactly remember what action happened when. All I know is that I saw Ronaldo rush past, tripping me and I reopened my eyes at the past of the stairs in a tangled puddle beneath wonderboy.

"Oh god," I groaned, trying to lift my head. "Fuck . . ." I distinctly remember the look on wonderboy's face when he looked down at me. It was a twisted expression of worry and panic.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" I heard Blaise shout.

"Rescuing Hermione from your bloody conspiracy against her!" that was Ronaldo.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" and that was Granger.

I knew something was physically wrong because I found it painful to be witty at that moment. Oh god, I hoped I wasn't bleeding. I can never leave my scabs alone. I always pick at them.

A familiar cackle echoed through the corridor. "Oh fuck. It's Peeves," Blaise said somewhere out of my field of placement. "Come on!" I heard my slytherin breathren and Granger most likely take off up the stairs.

"Move it, Harry!" Ronaldo said as he hustled up the stairs.

I felt Potter begin to shift his weight but then he stopped short. He quickly replaced his body over mine and held still. I saw Peeves travel directly over us and continue down the corridor; as though we were invisible.

When wonderboy finally moved off of me, I made my thoughts quite clear. "What in the bloody hell just happened?" I had hoped to sound more intimidating but my voice was quiet and cracking in pain.

"Come on," he brushed of my question and quickly got to his feet. He extended his hand down to me and I took it. He pulled me to my feet but the second he released my hand I collapsed to my knees. "Oh bloody hell," he cursed.

My vision began to fade in and out as I felt myself being half-scooped up and carried down the hall. I say half because I think my feet were dragging or something. I wasn't exactly worried about that, my mind was focusing on not passing out.

I didn't succeed.

My vision came back a while later and I found myself staring right at wonderboy's arse. It was shaking quickly as he seemed to be fiddling with something. Upon closer examination, I realized he was fiddling with a lock.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Where are we?"

"No where," he replied.

I pushed myself to sit up. I accepted the pain for looking from side to side. It took a moment for me to realize we were in a closet, one of the many infamous makeout spots in the castle. Fantastic.

"Looking to ravage me while I am knocked out, eh, Potter? How manly."

I rolled his eyes and looked at me. "Oh Please, Marlow. Snape and Peeves were coming. I would rather not have them find a knocked out slytheirn on the floor with my footprints nearby."

"And here I thought you were being a gentleman."

"Bugger!" he cursed, kicking the door in anger.

"What?" I asked, a bit surprised by his outburst. I quickly connected the dots and sighed. "We're locked in aren't we?"

"Do you have your wand?" he asked.

"No," I said nonchalantly, reaching for a cigarette. "It is what, 11 at night? I gather you don't have yours either."

"Bloody hell," he said, turning around and sliding down to his feet. I lit up a cigarette and his expression twisted. "Can you not smoke in this small space?"

I offered him one and when he refused I said, "Might as well join me, I am not going to halt the habit." With that, he accepted.

"So what are you and Weasley doing down here anyway?"

"I am not going to help you spread you gossip."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Please, cut me some slack, Potter. I just want to take my mind off it."

"Off what?"

I realized what I had just let slip and cursed myself. "Nothing, nevermind."

"Does it have anything to do with this?" he pulled one of my letters out of his pocket and slide it across the floor to me. "It fell out of your pocket. What's the matter?"

I sneered at it. "You think just one letter is the problem, Harry?" I pronounced his name with an almost guttural sound. "It this whole bloody fiasco!" All my rage for what Draco had said in the common room broke loose and I threw all the letters on the floor. "That's what's the bloody matter!" I pinched the bridge of my temple in an effort to calm down.

Wonderboy picked up a letter and read the name on the address. "_Alexandra and Draco_—what's this symbol?"

"It stands for Marlow-Malfoy," I replied without looking up.

"There's no return address. Who's it from?"

"That particular one, the Council of Wizarding Commerce. Lucius Malfoy and my uncles use a seal. Bloody fantastic." Wonderboy was silent and it was pretty clear why. "You have no idea what it means do you?"

"No. . . care to tell me?"

I sighed. "Might as well get it off my chest, not that you care anyway. The CWC has a great deal of control over how companies based in England run, even more so when there is no one in clear control. Ever since my father was arrested, Marlow Enterprises has been on hiatus seeing as I am the direct heir and I am still in school. Anyway, the point is Lucius Malfoy conjoined his various companies with my father's in order to keep it afloat. This is fine for the moment but basically ensures that whenever I take over for my father, I am joined at the hip with Draco Malfoy, seeing as he is the heir to everything Malfoy."

"I don't see what is so bad. You are both slytherins aren't you? Wouldn't it happen inevitably?"

I rolled my eyes. "While I am pressured into a marriage, expected considering I am female, then Draco would take the reigns to my company and that would leave his father's board to control."

"Oh wow."

"Hmhm, I replied, taking a drag.

"Then why has Draco been hastling you? He should be happy."  
"He isn't as much of a powerwhore as you might think. The last thing he wants is his father's life. Especially after you killed voldemort, businessmen actually have to know what their doing to make their fortune."

"So I caused all this trouble for _you _by killing a man that killed many innocent people?" wonderboy recoiled defensively.

"It isn't always about you," I said, flowing smoke. "But because of that "final raid", my father is being tried for crimes he didn't commit. But it isn't your job to care about the aftermath."

Wonderboy gave me a strange look, as though he wasn't sure if what to say but was connecting the dots. "So that is why you want to rip my guts out."

I laughed. "Well I did, for certain. Got rather close if I do say so myself. But in truth, it would do me no good right now. Not since all this surfaced," I gestured to the letters.

"So," I began again. "Now care to tell me something to get my mind off my depressing predicament."

He stared at me for a moment with those intoxicating green eyes before saying, "Well, Blaise and Hermione are apparently a couple."

I laughed, "I know. It's great."

Wonderboy's eyebrows rose slightly, "You find this funny? You have a real interesting sense of humor."

"Call it irony but I like it. It fits."

"Howso? They are nothing alike."

"Opposites attract. Poetic justice."

"You believe in that?"

"For myself? Fuck no."

He laughed and blew smoke into the hair. I grinned. "You know, Potter. When you smoke, you are a much more mellow, you should do it more."

"What and become an addict like you?"

"I can quit whenever I want."

"Sure," he drawled.

I snorted and leaned my head back against the wall. "Fuck!" I screamed, clutching the back of my head.

"What's wrong?" he asked, jerking up suddenly.

I looked at my hand and then showed him. Blood covered my fingers.

"Bloody hell," he cursed. "How come you didn't mention this earlier?" he scolded me as he fumbled with his shirt.

"I didn't feel it," I answered calmly and truthfully.

He ripped a piece of his shirt off. "You mean to tell me you didn't feel –"

"I mean to tell you I didn't feel prolonged pain. Numbness shouldn't be foreign to someone who lived understairs, Potter," I had a bite on the edge of my words but he seemed to brush it off.

"I thought we were going on first names," he said as he came over to me on his knees.

"What are you doing?" I asked, holding still.

"I am taking care of the blood leaking from your head. You have no objections so don't even try." I sighed and held still. To tell you the truth, it felt kind of nice having someone this close.

"Sorry for uh, punching Draco," he said lamely after a few minutes.

"What on earth are you apologizing for? You two hate eachother."

"Well you were really upset by it and now that I know why, I guess, well, I'm sorry."

I chuckled. "You thought I was upset? Trust me, you do not want to see me upset."

"Then what were you?"

"Trying to figure out why you defended me like you did."

"So you don't mind that I hit him, even though you are well 'joined at the hip'?"

"Look, Pott—Harry," I said, choosing my words carefully. "That situation is complex, don't worry about it."

"Still, I'm sorry."

I smiled, when I intended to laugh. "Don't be it. It was fitting for the boy wonder."

I didn't notice his hands leave their task at the back of my head. "Why do you call me that? Is it some running joke?"

"That's what you are, aren't you? The boy who gets to save the world?"

He didn't respond and instead stared into my eyes. It brought me out of my control level, leaving me feeling extremely disconserted. "Why are we doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Pretending to be in a relationship?"

"Well it was a joke but you took it to the next level, not I."

"Do you really care about it?"

"Not at the moment, no." I had the bet in the bag anyway, Teddy was going to lose.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?"

At this point I was too far gone in those green eyes. "Not at all."

That my friends was how Harry Potter and I began to make out yet again. Except being locked in a dark closet has its perks. While we were a bit tight on space, we managed to go at it five times successfully. Yes, yes, I know what am I thinking, right? I have no idea. That has to change but for the moment I have another reason to call him 'wonderboy'.

Author's Note: Sorry that took forever to get up, I know. But it was long! I am kinda losing my muse to be honest so please be patient with the updates. If I could get some feedback from my readers, that would be great. What do you want to see, what characters, what do you think should happen, what wouldn't make sense, that would just be great. Anyway,see you all in the next chapter!


	13. My Life as a Dog

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Xan.

Author's Note: I am so sorry this chapter took me a month. I really worked hard on it! I had a chapter all ready to go a few weeks ago when a got a review that really changed my thinking about how I wanted to run the story. Many thanks to that reviewer, kitty cat. I hope this chapter brings some real emotion that the particular reviewer was looking for. Anyway, if you are wondering what the connection to the title is, there is a fabulous film called My Life as a Dog, it's Swedish and it just seemed to abstractly fit what this chapter covers. Now, on with the story!

Chapter Thirteen: My Life As a Dog

This week is so full of tension I swear someone is going to die. It is just so strange how everyone has become so bloody secretive. Bloody hell, that's ironic but I am being quite serious. Since I last saw Harry, about three days ago the entire house as gotten just . . . quieter.

Such a phenomena was brought to my attention by Pansy in our dorm room.

_"Xan," Pansy said as she walked to my bed from the bathroom. _

_"What?" I groaned rolling onto my back._

_"Do you have any information for me on Draco?"_

_"No," I rolled over onto my stomach. "Go away, I still have five more minutes."_

_She got up with a huff. "You and Zabini both. What the bloody hell is happening to this house!"_

That had gotten me thinking. I indeed haven't been talking much and neither has Blaise. Well, at least we don't talk about anything important, I don't mean his vocal chords were dislodged. But now that I have started listening again, I notice Draco is doing most of the talking.

You know what is also odd? Malcolm Baddock. Yes, the smooth talking, connected playboy himself is now spending a lot of time just silent in the slytherin pack or walking with his sister in the corridors. I have to admit it was bugging me how I didn't notice this earlier, or that I couldn't remember when it started.

I was a bit disturbed and intrigued by what I saw going on with Baddock so I approached him Wednesday morning, before anyone was up. "Care for a cigarette?" I asked, sitting down next to him on the antique sofa.

Baddock's face was paler than I remembered. He accepted the cigarette and exhaled in a way that indicated the smoke was soothing. "So where are you and Potter at? No one has said anything."

I shrugged. "I am not losing the bet to say the least."

"Are you going to see him after this weekend?"

That question caught me off guard so I said what I thought he wanted to hear. "No. He's Harry Potter after all."

"I think you should," he tapped his ash.

"You may be the only one."

"That's bullshit," he said sharply. He didn't have to elaborate for me to know he was referring to social structure.

"Well of course Malcolm. Do it under the radar, that's the rule right? Didn't Pansy's parent crack down on her or—"

"It's all bullshit," he said much more firmly. "Every last bit of it."

This wasn't like the Baddock I knew or maybe it was. Maybe I never knew him at all. I pondered this as I finished my cigarette. I think I am going to see Harry today.

After my last class of the day was finished, transfiguration, I was planning on going to watch the gryffindor quidditch practice but McGonagall stopped me. "Miss Marlow, may I have a word with you?"

"Yes, professor," I said turning to her desk and walking over. "Something the matter with my work?"

"Actually your work is outstanding. I appreciate the effort in getting your work in on time." The tightness in her voice I think was a bit of sarcasm or comparison to how I sleep in her class.

"Then what is the problem?"

"You are good friends with Malcolm Baddock, are you not?"

"I suppose I am."

"Could you please tell him that if he does not step up his quality of work his NEWTS will be quite disappointing."

"I'll tell him," I replied without much thought.

"Then you are excused."

I made my way to the quidditch pitch and sat alone in the stands smoking a cigarette and looking over financial statements my uncles mailed me while Harry was practicing with his team. I used to be really into quidditch. In my first year, I became acquainted with Morgana Montague brother of Graham Montague, beater on the slytherin team. She was always with Marcus Flint, Terrence Higgs and that group. She illustrated for me, basically how not to become like Pansy. I wonder, what would have happened, if I had instead of challenging Blaise (Draco's best friend) to a duel, cheered him on, would I be like Pansy or Daphne?

Anyway, after I was caught talking about quidditch in a I-want-to-play way, my father laid down the law and that was that. I am not the rebellious type really. I am more of a go with the flow person. There just happen to be a lot of rivers.

God these reports are dull. Just when I finished figuring out how a loan to expand shipping offices through out the pacific would help us double revenue, the gryffindors left the field. I packed up all my stuff and walked down to the pitch where I waited for wonderboy. I concealed myself by the bleachers so as to not be noticed by the other players.

"How long have you been waiting?" Wonderboy asked, walking over and ruffling his sweaty hair.

"I enjoy watching you play. I also got some work done."

"What did you need?" Notice how he said need instead of want. Could he sense wasn't here for kicks? Bastard. This is what you get for listening, Marlow.

"Do you have some time?" I asked suddenly interested in my ground cigarette bud.

"Sure. What do you need?" he repeated himself.

"I need to . . . how do I phrase this," I thought out loud. "I need to not be here." What I meant by here I didn't exactly know. I hope he would figure something out. And he did. Maybe that is why he is wonderboy.

He tilted his head towards the lake and said, "Let's go for a walk." I put my hands firmly in my pockets and walked eyes downcast.

"No cigarette?" he said after a few minutes.

"Thought you hated it when I smoke?"

"I do. Doesn't mean you have to stop. Besides, I am just a gryffindor after all."

"I am not smoking because I don't feel like it," I said sharply.

"Alright," he said with a shrug.

"So," I began still looking at the grass. "How are things with you?"

"Ron and Hermione have been fighting which is a pain because Dumbledore also has us doing stuff for the Order which has been giving me a headache."

"Ah the fantabulous Order of the Phoenix, what have you been up to?"

He grinned half-coyly and half-embarrassed, "Sorry, sworn to secrecy."

I playfully smacked his butt. "Are you sure you can't even tell me? I have a reason to know."

"We are trying to figure out if Voldemort is dead or not."

"Liar," I said. "I am sure he isn't and you're planning raids, figuring out whose hiding him, etc."

He grinned. "If you knew that then whyy did you ask?"

We approached the water and I sat down. Harry did the same. I leaned my head on his shoulder and stared out at the calm lake. My mind was swirling around all these different things that just having someone next to me was comforting. I forgot in three weeks how hard listening was. Or maybe it changed. Though I don't know how, perhaps it did.

I looked up and him. His green eyes are so gorgeous. I was about to indulge myself (if you know what I mean) when a splash caused us to pull away from one another.

Across the lake but close to us, a group of boys were gathered. Well, not exactly gathered, grouped and looking to be a bit rowdy, in a bad way.

"Is that Malfoy?" Harry stiffened as he noticed the blond.

"Oh god," I said sitting up. Being one of the Slytherin Four (Malfoy, Zabini, Nott and I) where there is Draco, typically I am or should be involved. As I peered closer, I became more and more involved.

Malcolm Baddock appeared to be in a heated argument with Draco Malfoy. If I had my cards right, not only Draco was present, but Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and oh dear god . . . was that Eleanor Baddock? The hufflepuff?

"I'll be back," I said quickly as I got to my feet.

I towards the group and the first thing I saw was Eleanor crying. She was a couple yards away from where Blaise was standing, off the right of Crabbe and Goyle. Theo was on the other side, closer to Draco, who was facing off with Malcolm Baddock.

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing? You went into the hufflepuff common room? The fact that you even associate with them is disgusting!"

"My sister is a hufflepuff and if you dare insult my sister –"

"Whatever gene put your sister in hufflepuff also got your father fired!"

That was when Malcolm punched him.

A tattered notebook flew out of Malcolm's robes and right to Theo's feet. "What the hell?" Theo picked it up and read a random page. "_I don't know why I am doing this. It just feels so right. Logan is so . . . perfect. I wonder what would happen if anyone found out. Could we be happy together? Run away together? _What the fuck? I think we have a fairy on our hands here!"

I snuck over to Blaise. He was silent as was I.

"It's called a journal. Is that illegal?" I have never seen Malcolm like this.

"A fairy!" Draco seemed to be eating this up. "I wonder how the world would respond to that? Malcolm Baddock a bloody faggity fairy."

"At least I am not a deatheater like you lot!" Malcolm spat. That was below the belt for every one of us. At least I know my father doesn't have a dark mark on his arm.

That was when Draco punched Malcolm so hard I thought I would see a tooth. "At least my family is worth something." Then he spat on him. Draco Malfoy spat on the only person in this school I would trust with my life or with my secrets.

And I did nothing.

"Let's go," Draco said, walking down the path. Crabbe and Goyle were at his heels while Theo at least looked at us uneasily before following. Blaise followed. But I was transfixed by the blood running from Malcolm's nose to his chin. Eleanor's crying seemed very loud. "You too, Marlow!"

"Experiamus!" wonderboy arrived and blasted Draco all the way into the lake. Crabbe, Goyle and Theo ran over to the ferret while Blaise ran over to me and Harry knelt down beside Malcolm.

"Hey, hey, wake up," wonderboy nudged Malcolm's cheek trying to refocus his vision.

Malcolm's head snapped and he stared at Harry. They stared at one another as if deciding whether to kiss or hit. Blaise interrupted it. "Come on, man," he offered his hand. Malcolm smacked it away.

"How do you sleep at night?" he snarled as he got to his feet. He walked past Eleanor and the two of them headed for the castle.

"You better go," I said to Harry and Blaise nodded in agreement.

I don't remember what happened then except I dropped to the ground, pulled out my cigarettes and didn't budge until I ran out—8 hours later.

I didn't see much of Malcolm Baddock the next few days. Not only was I preoccupied but he seemed to be spending as much time away from slytherin as possible. Again since no one was talking, the incident with Draco was kept hush hush house only. God, I still haven't figured out what all that was about. He is tense all the time. He is skipping class more than normal and spends far too much time at the pitch.

However when Friday morning rolled around, while I still hadn't officially been asked by wonderboy to the ball, I didn't have to be. Theo had lost. He was without so much as a scrap of evidence that Ginny Weasley was doing anything but hating his guts. After the name-calling and everyone who had placed bets collected their money, the post flew in.

Now when I get post, it is never anything good and one letter isn't something to have me smiling. But I noticed it wasn't from my uncles. No seal. I opened the envelope and found a slightly sloppy hand-written note.

_Xandra- Would you like to go to the ball with me?_

No name. I should have to give wonderboy credit next time. Quite smart knowing I would open it at the slytherin table. He must have had experience with this type of thing before.

I looked over to the gryffindor table and saw Harry starring at me, as though awaiting an answer. I checked from side to side, everyone was involved in some other conversation. I smiled. I didn't have to but for some reason, I wanted to go to the ball with him.

Then I remembered I had no dress.

Shortly after I realized that was the night of my father's trial.

"Are you going to the ball?" Pansy asked as we strolled to Transfiguration.

"No," I lied. "Are you?"

"What about Potter?" she asked. How sad it is when the two outlets of gossip close their mouths. No one knows anything.

"It was a bet, Pansy. He meant nothing," it felt good to talk this way. Felt like so long for some reason.

"Oh. Should have known you couldn't attract a guy to save your soul."

"Touche."

"I happen to be going to the ball with Jordan."

"Dolohov?" I looked at her, a bit surprised. "A seven year whose father is a DE, why am I know surprised."  
"Sod off," she said after a gasp at my openness. Her reaction kind of brought me back to reality I guess. I hadn't noticed how the death eater stuff seemed like no big deal. It is apart of our house right? Sure we don't talk about it but . . . it was just a comment.

"Whatever happened to Draco?"

She snorted. "That wanker can stuff it. After he broke Malcolm's nose –"

"Why did he do that?"

Another snort came. "They got into a fight over something stupid. Draco said something about being a liar, traitor or something."

That didn't sound very encouraging. Mostly because it didn't answer any of my questions. What on earth was happening with my house? Though I was able to find out that my dress should be pink, without revealing that I was planning on going to the ball.

Draco and I organized our departure for my father's trial Friday with Professor Snape after classes. The three of us would use the floo from Snape's office to my family's London office and from there to the courthouse along with the Malfoy's business network. Why is Snape coming you ask? Besides that he is a friend of my father's and my advisor here at school, Dumbledore wouldn't dare let me off the campus without someone to make sure I came back. You know, he doesn't want me running off controlling businesses just yet. Stupid old coot.

Anyway, the point is my Saturday was free to find my outfit, learn how to walk in the shoes, figure out how makeup works, do something un-goblinlike with my hair and not smell like cigarettes.

The dress robes were easy. All I had to do was tell the dress woman what I was looking for and she found it so quickly, I didn't have to waste time trying it on. So what if I was in a hurry? This whole thing feels somewhere between dirty and a naughty kind of exhilarating.

The shoes were a nightmare. I got so I could pace the dorm room but whenever I encountered stairs or unmarbled terrain, I lost myself.

The makeup . . . was quite hard. I had to borrow some items from third years who couldn't go to the dance. I didn't want my dormmates to see me so I was putting on makeup like a fugitive. Actually, by the times the girl's dorm liquidated to the ball, I used the mirror in dormitory hall to figure out what to do with my hair.

"I'd leave it down, if I were you." I spun so fast I nearly lost my ankle.

Malcolm Baddock was sitting on the boys dormitory stairs smoking a cigarette and looking like hell. The former popular self-confident charmer had transformed into sullen, sneering, bruised and bandaged boy. My comfort level around him changed the moment after he gave me that glare. He was. . . it's hard to explain.

"I was afraid it made me look to much like a goblin," I said, trying to remain as casual as possible.

"Add a curl."

I did. And it looked great.

"Who are you going with?" he asked, blowing smoke in a disgusting manner.

"Harry Potter," I replied.

"Who are you ditching, you father or your boytoy?"

"Neither I split it up evenly. Harry isn't what I would call a boytoy."

"Then what is he and does he know you will be leaving early?"

I turned to him, getting a bit annoyed. "Does it really matter, Malcolm?"

"If it didn't matter then why are you putting so much effort into it? You always hated putting effort into things. Especially boys."

"Coming from the boy notorious for sleeping with every girl he laid eyes on."

"You don't get it," Malcolm faced the wall, shaking his head and taking a drag of his cigarette.

"How could I get it when you don't explain anything."

"It always means something," he snapped. "Every girl . . . every boy . . . it all meant something. Not always sappy but something." He chuckled cynically and exhaled. "Let us be damned for feeling anything at all."

"I have to go," I said. He was talking nonsense now.

"Do you really want it all, Xan?" he asked as I began to carefully walk down the stairs.

"What?"

"All that your father created, left for you. Do you really want to be living in his shadow?"

"Not particularly but what else would I do with my life?"

When he didn't answer right away, I continued walking down the stairs. I heard him faintly reply, "Good point."

"Wow." I was waiting for wonderboy at staircase overlooking where everyone was entering the great hall. I didn't know he was there until he spoke. "You look . . ."

I turned around and his eyes kind of glazed over. I smiled. I felt like I had accomplished something spectacular. If this was wonderboy's reaction what would Draco, Blaise and Theo say?

After a few moment's Harry shook himself out of it and offered his arm. "Shall we? I think we missed the first dance."

"Who dances to that except the prefects?"

"Hermione must be out there then."

"With Blaise?" I laughed. "Now I am kind of wishing I had seen it. If not for the teacher's reactions."

"You can't tell me you wouldn't have enjoyed McGonagall's scowl as the bookworm danced with the slacker?"

"Hey, she's my friend."

"Blaise is mine but that doesn't mean he isn't a slacker."

"After that incident at the lake I don't know how you all keep friends." I know Harry meant nothing by it but I still crunched his toes with my heel.

"What was that for?" he hissed in pain.

"Watch it," I growled.

We entered the Great Hall and several heads turned to see who had entered late. Those same heads kept staring. My theory is that they either recognized me or they didn't, thus they stared. "Harry!" our first obstacle had arrived; Ronaldo.

"Hey Ron," wonderboy greeted with a smile. "Where is Luna?"

Ronaldo snorted, "She went to the loo. I swear though she has been there for fifteen minutes. She looked fine!"

"Oh Ron," wonderboy gestured to me despite my mental shaking of the head. "You know Xandra?"

Ronaldo turned to me and it took him a moment to recognize me. His lips formed a small 'o' and he gave Harry a what-the-bloody-hell-are-you-thinking look. "Yeah, Marlow. Uh, you look nice."

"Likewise," I said with equal distance in my voice. "Excuse us," I said tugging wonderboy past his friend and closer to the floor. But before we could get there, our next obstacle arrived.

"Xan!" Daphne and Morgan were suddenly in my face. "I thought you were coming?"

"I changed my mind," I said, pulling back from them and farther into wonderboy.

Daphne leaned closer, "You and Potter? Still?"

"Potter," Morgan acknowledged with a nod. Quidditch rivals, you know how that is.

"It is no big deal, Daphne," I hissed. "It is just a stupid ball."

But it was a big deal and I realized that when we finally got out onto the dancefloor. After I got over the fact that Harry couldn't dance and we flowed semi-harmoniously, I surveyed the room.

The teachers were the first people I saw looking at us. Dumbledore had this weird twinkle eye. Stupid old coot. Snape and McGonagall were talking to one another and looking at us in a way that was a step away from pointing. How awkward. I have never had this problem before.

Then there were the slytherins. Well, first slytherins were people I only know by acquaintance. They in turn, only know me by reputation. Their expressions were from shocked to impressed. While at any other time I would have been worried about gossip, for some reason, I felt there were other things to worry about.

Harry however, had different feelings when it came to his gryffindor friends. "Oh god," he groaned.

"What?"

"Just these girls," he said, suddenly focusing intensely on his dancing.

"Gossips?"

"Yeah. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. I mean they're nice but . . ."

"Afraid to be seen with me?" I teased.

"No, no," he said quickly. "It's just, well, you slytherins are off limits."

"Because you're the boy wonder?"

"I guess but just in general."

I laughed. "But aren't you the gryffindor king? Surely you of all people would be able to say 'fuck off I do what I want'."

"I've never thought of it that way. I don't want to be that different from everyone else."

I shook my head. "You are so strange."

"That's my charm."

We had a few more dances before I opted for punch. As we walked off the floor, he walked extremely close. "Is there something you want to say to me or do you just have your lips near my ear for no reason?" I asked nonchalantly. I glanced over my shoulder and a cute blush was over his cheeks.

Wonderboy got me some punch like a gentlemen and asked me a question I didn't think he cared much about. "What do you think about Zabini and Hermione?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You and Zabini seem close and –"

"Ew," I cut him off. "Ew, ew, gross."  
"I meant in a friendly way," he said. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Still, thinking of Blaise in a remotely sexual way makes me uncomfortable."

"Xandra Marlow, uncomfortable?"

"Don't get cute," my words betrayed me because I couldn't resist a smile.

"I'll leave that to you," he said with a unique grin.

"You can't mean that."

"But I do." He shirted and glanced back to the dancefloor. "Even though I am terrible, would you like to dance again?"

I smiled, "I'd love to."

Halfway through our second dance, we are interrupted by a unintentionally sharp-looking Justin Finch-Fletchley tapping on Harry's shoulder. "May I cut in?"

"Yeah, sure, Justin. I'll just be over here, Xandra," Harry said, exiting the floor. I nodded and began my dance with Justin, someone who I know could indeed dance.

"How long have you been with him?" Justin asked, nudging me out my silence.

"A while."

"Really with him?"

"I don't know what you mean." It wasn't in Justin's nature to pry when I shut him down so he switched topics.

"How is your father doing?"

"I haven't spoken to him directly in a while."

"Well how are you doing?"

"You interest in my life is flattering, Justin but quite pointless."

"I was just trying –"

"It's over, Justin," I said firmly. "You 'stood up for yourself' thus ending our string of encounters. We are not friends."

He was silent for a while until he said quietly, "You look really pretty tonight."

Justin . . . I suppose he truly is as masochistic as I thought he was when I first pursued him. I treated him terribly to be quite honest and he kept allowing me to use him as a vessel for sexual frustration. It wasn't completely one-sided either. While it isn't like we cuddled or anything, I am just saying he kissed back. But it's over, it ended, I have other things to worry about. Right?

After my dance with Justin I snuck up behind wonderboy and put my hands on his shoulders. "Hello there."

He turned around and a look of relief fled over his face. I looked up to see who he had been talking to. He was talking to the infamous Cho Chang. My expression changed quickly to a cynical expression. "Hello to you too. I hope I am not interrupting anything," I said, looking right at the ravenclaw.

"Harry and I were just talking," she said, stepping closer to him as though I was out of my territory. "Weren't we?"

"Uh," wonderboy looked extremely uncomfortable. "Xandra do you know Cho?"

"I am quite familiar with Chang," I said a grin spreading over my face in anticipation of my next comment. "Morgan Moon broke your arm earlier in the quidditch season isn't that right?"

"Marlow," she said coldly. "How like you to bring up something completely irrelevant."

"Oh ho?" I raised an eyebrow. "What were you discussing?"

"None of _your _business."

"Well in that case," I said lacing my fingers with Harry's for effect. "I shall have to ask you excuse my date and I." With that I led him away from the beast from the far east. My I certainly sound like a racist don't I?

"How do you know, Cho?" he asked, handing me a glass of punch.

"How do _you_ know, Chang?" I spun the question back at him.

"We're friends," he lied unconvincingly. I only had to raise my eyebrow to get more of a story. "Okay so I liked her for a few years and when we went out on Valentine's Day last year all she had to say was how she and Cedric used to snog where we were and Roger Davies."

"I spent my valentine's day last year getting in a pub watching Draco and Blaise get pissed."

"How romantic." I barely looked at Harry when laughed at the comment.

"Seriously, how do you know, Cho?" he asked.

I smiled mischievously, "I know everybody. Whether or not we're on good terms is the question."

"Are we on good terms?"

I thought for a moment. "We're not on terms," I answered finally.

"Then what are we?"

I grinned again, "Does it really matter at this point in time?" I said that because I honestly didn't know.

Later that evening, I was standing out in the courtyard, looking off at the night. Harry had taken a moment to talk to Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan and go to the loo. "Having fun?" Draco approached me and leaned on the railing with a particularly cynical look on his face.

"What if I am?"

"Woopdeedoo."

"You aren't even a bit pissed that I am here with Potter?"

He shrugged. "Unless you told him about your father, which knowing you Marlow, you probably didn't, you will have to be ditching Perfect Potter in a half an hour."

I glared at him, "Prick."

"What do you see in him," Draco said turning around and leaning on his elbows.

Speak of the devil, coming towards us was wonderboy with a grin on his face despite Draco and a flower in his hands. I looked at Draco cheekily, "He brings me flowers, that's why."

I started to walk towards him when Draco hissed at me, "Thirty minutes, then we are out of here."

True to his word, thirty minutes later, Draco impatiently motioned for me to get off the dancefloor. "Oh shit," I said, stopping my dance with Harry.

"What is it?"

"Bloody hell I think Pansy and Moon passed out. I got to go."

"Oh uh, alright," he said, a little frazzled by the sudden change.

"Thanks, Harry," I said as I hustled out of the hall trying not to be noticed. Sure it was a very unfitting end to a quite lovely few hours but what other choice do I have?

Snape gave me just enough time to change into some stark business robes before we flooed to the London office. It was all kind of a blur after that. Lucius Malfoy was there waiting along with my three uncles. I shook hands with the blond leech who looked particularly smug about Draco present with me. The older Malfoy fell back to discuss something with Draco while my uncles briefed me on the name of the prosecutions attorneys and exact charges. I say briefing because it was done with so much distance that all the feelings involved in the event were stripped away.

"Will there be any chance for me to speak with my father?" I asked suddenly. I don't know exactly why but I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to talk to my father quite badly actually.

"Most likely after the first recess. This is mostly for show," Professor Snape interjected.

"Severus is right," one of my uncles said. "Lynch our name in the public square."

_More like lynch my father in the public square,_ I thought. Later I would look back and wonder why I suddenly cared so much but the point was, I did.

"Again, Miss Marlow," Lucius said coming up beside me. "I would like to express that I, my company and my family," he discretely gestured towards Draco, "are fully supporting you."

"Why thank you, Mr. Malfoy," I said just before we exited the building into a sea of reporters. "I appreciate it."

Getting to the trial was purely hell, I had more lightbulbs in my face than Harry Potter did at his trial. Why am I talking in distance again?

Well speaking of distance, it was interesting because Draco stood really close to me while corporate/death eater bodyguards pushed back reporters allowing the Marlow entourage to pass through. Is it bad that I find Draco's smell comforting? Stupid psychological shit.

When we sat down in the courtroom, I refused to look up and see my father's back. I just stared at my fingers and picked at my cuticles. The list of charges were read and opening statements heard. I know I was supposed to be listening so I could approach the prosecution team later or have something to contribute while the Death Eater elite sat around smoking cigars (though that was typically for men- I suppose I am now genderless), but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I will be briefed on it all anyway. Or the papers will retell it to me.

"Xan, will you let go of my hand. You're grip is deadly," Draco whispered into my ear, his voice laced with pain. I suddenly snapped, as though I had just woken up and released his hand.

"When did I start to hold your hand?" I asked in a low _low _voice.

"About five minutes in."

"What time is it now?"

"Recess should be in ten."

Two and a half hours. I had unconsciously been holding Draco's hand for two and a half hours. Wait a second, why didn't he stop me? "Because it seemed appropriate," Draco answered the question when I asked. Though he left me wondering what exactly he had meant.

When recess was called I asked my uncles to take me to my father. Into a sea of reporters, all taking photos and shouting for my comments. I let someone else falsely answered the questions that weren't allowed to have meaning for me. When my mind finally caught up with my place in time, I was standing next to an extremely burly prison guard who looked like had never had a vacation in his life.

He lead me down the corridor to my father's cell, a high security holding cell that still managed to look like Napoleon's prison. When I laid eyes on my father, I didn't say anything, I couldn't say anything. He was bearded (my father never missed a day of shaving in his life). He was dirty (my father was meticulous about showering). He was dressed in rags (my father was always a dress-for-success man). He was avoiding my eyes (my father used to grab my chin so I would look at him).

I silently withdrew a bank note for fifty galleons and handed it to the guard. The guard nodded and left me alone with him.

"Hey dad," I said softly. I am only allowed to call him this when we are alone (which isn't often).

"Alexandra," he replied in voice hoarse from dehydration. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor Snape escorted me from school to come and watch your trial."

"This isn't a trial," he said, staring at his hands. "It is merely an elaborate sentencing."

"What do you want me to do?"

His head snapped up and our eyes locked. "The Dark Lord isn't dead," he said in the voice of a madman. "Harry Potter and the Order are far from succeeding."

"What?" I asked shaking my head. "What are you talking about, dad. That has nothing to do –"

"It has everything to do with it!" he bellowed.

I sat petrified. The one person in the world who can petrify me is my own father. Not so surprising.

"Alexandra," he said, his voice quickly transforming into a silky, constricting flow of words. "There is . . ." his hand extended towards me, "but no . . ." his fingers crept past the bars, "way out of this. . ." he latched onto my wand, "for me." He jerked my wand back into his cell. I was too numb to do anything worthwhile. "This whole . . . thing—my father never referred to something with a name as thing—is coming down on me," his eyes were fixated down. "It's crushing me."

He murmured a spell and the only thing I saw was a puddle of red. No subject, no focus but words rang in my ears. "It hurts, Alexandra. It's very, very painful."

I was forced to fish my wand out from a puddle, no, a lake of blood that dark night. I wondered, if I was so fucking numb then why did I care enough to cry? That is, before the prison guards came back.

It was such a mess getting back to the headquarters, reporters everywhere and even my own people asking me what had happened. I told them all a less meaningful version of the truth because that other truth was mine. I still had to figure it out.

The only comment Draco had for me (supposedly soothing) was, "You're probably better off anyway, Xan."

By the time we got back to Snape's office, it had been about three and a half hours since we had left. While Snape assured me Dumbledore would like to see me, I left his office as fast as I could. I pulled some cigarettes off of Theo but refused to talk to him. My plan was to go out onto the pitch and smoke a pack but someone got in my way. Wonderboy got in my way.

"Xandra!" he shouted when he saw me. I ignored him and kept walking. He kept shouting my name and I walked faster until we were both running. I got out off the castle and onto the grass before I tripped. Fucking heels. At least I was wearing pants right? But I was too far gone to think about all that.

"Xandra . . . we have to talk," Wonderboy said, breathing hard.

He extended his hand to help me up but I smacked it away. I took off my high heels and carried them as I walked closer to the pitch. "Don't touch me."

"Oh I get it," his voice turned sour faster than a grape. "So Nott was right. I was just your little bet wasn't I?"

"What are you talking about?" I muttered, quickly lighting up.

He yanked the cigarette from me so I would pay attention. "You never indeed liked me, did you? It was all for a bet. You're so fucking cold hearted."  
"Shut up," I growled. I tried to walk away but he grabbed my arm.

"Did you do it because I am Harry Potter or because I am the boy who lived? Are you a bloody deatheater too? At a meeting is that why you changed your clothes?"

"Shut up!" I ripped my arm away and screamed. "Just shut up! You know nothing!" He seemed amazed by my incredible outburst. "Fuck you!" I shouted, throwing my shoes at him. He deflected them and stared at me as I fell apart.

I father died today," I said darkly, still on a roll. "My father slit his wrists withmy own wand in front of me because of you. The only person that every showed and ounce of affection for me or loved me, died because of the Order of the fucking Pheonix and you know the worst part, Harry? You know the worst bloody part?"  
"What?" he asked quietly.

"I can't figure out why!" I screamed. I really couldn't. I didn't know whether it was the trial, the thought of all he had worked for being destroyed and he could never emerge again. Was something to do with the "last" Voldemort raid? Was it something to do with the Order? I had so many questions and no one to answer them. I just collapsed to my knees and sobbed.

Harry walked over and kneeled down in front of me. He carefully put his arms around me, as though I would break if he held to tightly. I grabbed his shirt however and pulled him closer. I don't know how long it was that he just held me there while I soaked his shirt. But it was necessary. It was oh so necessary.

That night wasn't just the night my father died. It was also the night I discovered Malcolm Baddock's body in our bathroom, wrists slit, lying in a pool of blood. On the wall, smeared with his fingertip were the words familiar to all of us in a neglected sort of way.

"_Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

_You'll make your real friends._

_Those cunning folk use anything_

_To achieve their ends."_

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed yourself, I am rather proud of this chapter. I will definitely try and get the next one up as soon as I possibly can. Thanks to all and cheers.


	14. Human SuperGlue

Disclaimer: As always, I just own Xan.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for the reviews and I would like to say that Mary is the best person ever! I really appreciate all the feedback. As I was writing the beginning of this chapter, I was listening to Death Cab for Cutie's "Your Bruise" if you are into songs going along with fics, check it out but I just had to put it in here.

Chapter Fourteen: Human Super-Glue

At least hogsmeade was open for students today. Though that is an extremely petty conciliation. I am sure you are wondering about the time in between when I found Malcolm Baddock's dead body and now as I am walking with the rest of my house to the Great Hall.

Well from what they tell me, I was found about 2am by my roommates. That is about an hour after I got there. Oh and I use the word 'found' because apparently, I had crawled into the bathtub with Malcolm's body. I was cuddled next to him, my dress soaked with blood and the curls in my hair were stuck together. They said my face was pressed up against his, cheek to cheek. I am glad that I was Morgan Moon who pulled me out of that situation. I wouldn't have liked Pansy telling the whole world or Daphne (because she is squeamish).

Morgan had run off to get help and I had waited in the bathroom, bloodsoaked, stroking his cold hand. When all the teachers finally arrived, they demanded I go to the hospital wing but I couldn't walk straight or barely even get to my feet. Professor Snape had to carry me to the hospital wing.

After I had gotten cleaned up, Madame Promphery had wanted me to spend the night but I somehow got back to the slytherin dorms. Up in my dorm, where Malcolm had been found, I remember I staggered in and nine pairs of eyes had turned to me. Scattered about the room, dressed up, pale and smoking.Daphne and Pansy were leaning on one another, their makeup smeared from crying. Moon had blood on her robes for she had been the one who fished me out of the tub. Crabbe and Goyle's faces were scrunched up in a somber way so their eyes weren't visible. Theo and Avery looked as though as they had been excavated from the tomb. They had undoubtably been drinking heavily but now they seemed very sober. Blaise had his head between his knees and was grabbing at his hair in between taking gulps of firewhiskey. Draco motioned for me to sit down next to him. He had dark circles under his eyes and his lip was bloody from knowing on it. His fingers trembled as he offered me a cigarette.

We stayed like that until morning. Slytherin prefects came to get everyone from the dorms (after the news had been spread) and as a house, we walked to the Great Hall.

It was indeed strange to walk to the Great Hall with my entire house, from seventh years to first years without discrimination. The Slytherin Four were walking towards the front of the pack, behind Snape and the seventh years that had been close to Malcolm. I think every girl in our house shed a tear for it couldn't be denied that Malcolm had been one of the most attractive people. Ever.

We filed into the Great Hall, all the other houses were already there and standing. Dumbledore came up to the staff table and gazed at all of us before he spoke. I felt his eyes rest specifically on me, not that I am really accusing him of anything. I would look at me too, I after all was the one who climbed into a tub full of blood with a corpse.

"Today," he began, "is sad day. One that I hoped would never come again so quickly." Yeah, Diggory. I never thought of comparing Malcolm and Diggory but I suppose it is possible, especially now. "Our very own Malcolm Baddock, a seventh year from slytherin house, has left us before his time. He was a friend to many and shall be remembered as a smiling face. We shall never know exactly why he chose to take his own life but what we do know is that he had an impact on all of us in one way or another. Now I would like to open up the floor, for individuals who would like to speak on his behalf."

The hall was completely silent for a minute until Blaise broke away from me and walked up to the front of the Great Hall. This was most unexpected for this wasn't anything like Blaise. I guess death . . . meaningful death does something to everyone.

"Um," he began looking down and grabbing his hair nervously. "I was Malcolm Baddock's roommate and I am sure half of you really didn't know Malcolm Baddock aside from the fact that he was just another slytherin. Well um," Blaise bit his lip, hard, to keep his face from quivering. "He has to be one of the most amazing people I have ever known. He really knew how to treat a lady for one. But Malcolm didn't ever discriminate against people because of their house. His own sister was a hufflepuff and he never . . . he never let anyone say anything bad about hufflepuff in his presence. Not unless they wanted a broken jaw." He broke into a weak smile. "Life's hard, but I would like to think something else drove him to . . . you know . . ." Blaise got out of the spotlight faster than gryffindors out of potions.

The next person that went up to speak was even more surprising. It was Marietta Edgecomb, the ravenclaw that Malcolm had slept with a few weeks ago. Had he seen her since? Anyway she said some stuff about how he had been the one who changed her opinion on slytherin house (probably just trying to be politically correct). I wasn't really listening.

After her, a couple of Malcolm's seventh year friends, another few girls, and a friend of Eleanor's went up to speak. Eleanor herself was crying into another girl's shoulder. I felt like I too wanted to climb into a bathtub and slit my wrists. Two people I didn't know I cared about had killed themselves within the same 6 hours and I had no idea why. I prayed that Malcolm hadn't done it solely for the incident at the lake.

After Dumbledore had a said a final word and dismissed us, Draco kind of pushed me forward unintentionally and hissed in my ear, "Get me out of here."

When we got into the corridor, Blaise and Theo were already there, it was a bit crowded. We were about to go outside, when someone shouted, "Malfoy!"

We all stopped as though we were a unit. Eleanor Baddock comes storming up to us with big red poofy eyes and doesn't stop until she is right up in front of Malfoy. Like a flash, she drew back her fist and hit him as hard as she could. I was surprised when Draco stumbled. Then it was like a cannon had shot off. The hufflepuff fourth year started kicking and beating the shit out of him with all she had.

Some of her friends shouted her name and ran over along with professor Sprout and McGonagall. When they finally pulled her off of him, Draco had a nice shiner developing on his cheek. Did he not fight back at all?

"Miss Marlow," McGonagall said to me while we helped the blond to his feet. "I suggest you take Mr. Malfoy out of here."

Of course, the little prince himself ran off somewhere claiming he wanted to be alone. Theo and Avery decided to head down to Hogsmeade, leaving Blaise and I. That was, until Hermione unexpectedly approached.

"Granger," I said unenthusiastically.

"You spoke very well, Blaise," she said first looking at my male companion then to me. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Even though you didn't even know Malcolm," I said, taking a drag of my recently lighted cigarette.

"No," she said calmly. "I meant your other loss."

I looked at her sharply and then it hit me how she knew. I took a quick drag of my cigarette. "Don't tell me it has hit the papers already."

"Front page."

"Do I look good?"

"You and Malfoy look fantastic," the bite in her voice was obvious but it also seemed as though she felt bad about the timing.

"Well," I said, "I'll leave you and Zabini to do whatever it is you two do." Neither protested and I walked down the cooridoor.

I wandered the cooridors for a while. I dodged Dumbledore and several other teachers. The last thing I wanted anyone to do was bring up my father. I felt worse about Malcolm. Well, actually I couldn't decide and I didn't really want to. I went out to the lake to avoid Harry when I spotted him in the hall.

As I meandered around the lake, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Draco sitting alone, reading. He didn't look like the Draco I was familiar with. This Draco appeared attractive. What terrible timing . . . and to think I like to pride myself on that.

"Oi Draco," I called. His head shot up and I walked over. "May I join you or do you still feel like being alone."

"I am not a pansy," he said quickly. "Sit down," he grumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, twisting my lips in concern.

"Nothing," he said convincingly, though I didn't believe him; not after I saw what he was reading.

"Is that Malcolm's journal?" I asked tentatively. He grunted something in reply that I assume was a yes. I gave him a long look but he avoided my eyes. "This has really gotten to you hasn't it?"

"You're a bloody hypocrite, Marlow," he snapped.

"The last time you talked to him, you _did _call him a 'faggity fairy' and broke his nose. Why did you do that anyway?" My tone was much to calm and it caused Draco to kind of . . . well snap.

"Shut up, Marlow! Shut up!"

I couldn't keep the surprise off my face. "Relax Draco," I said trying to calm him down. I would never get him to talk this way. "We're on the same side, remember? Why don't you tell me what's going on."

"My dad owled me and told me that Malcolm Baddock's father had gotten fired from the ministry for trying to get some of the elite to accept that the Dark Lord was dead and move on. He told me to relay the information to the Baddock kids. Then it just seemed appropriate to hassle him about being with those stupid hufflepuffs and I guess . .." he paused. "Thing got out of control."  
"You're talking as though you are thinking of changing your evil ways," I said, offering him a cigarette.

He accepted and lit up. "I need to know something, Marlow."

"Ask away."

He exhaled and looked at me. "Did he do it because of what I did?"

I was impressed because it seemed Draco actually cared about my answer. I thought for a moment back to what I remember from the night I talked to Malcolm and what I remember from when I found him. I remember looking into his dead cold eyes just before I went to meet Harry. The soul had left the body.

"If I said yes, what would you do?" I blew smoke and looked at him. Draco's expression twisted and I called it as I saw it. "Do you actually feel guilty?"

He tossed the journal at me. "This is enough to make the Dark Lord go on a guilt trip."

I picked up the worn leather journal and read a page towards the end. "_So this is what it feels like to be on the outside,_" I read the hand written words with care. _"This is what it feels like to be on the outside looking into Slytherin house. I suppose it is worse because I know about each and every one of them. They can't be happy. Then again, I am not one to talk. But surely, Xan can't be happy being conniving and living a double life. Theo can't be happy avoiding experiencing anything except anger. Blaise can't enjoy meaning nothing to every girl he comes across. Draco can't be happy pretending to enjoy being his father's puppet. I am not happy, pretending I am not madly in love with a hufflepuff prefect. Why don't people ever let themselves be happy?"_

I put the journal down and took a long drag. "God you're right. Talk about experiencing self-loathing. But honestly what does he expect us to do? Malcolm knows how it is. You will grow up to be like your father, I will grow up to be like mine. Theo will probably get killed in a duel and Blaise will most likely make a merger with my company and run away, if he ever gets control of his family's business. Maybe he'll do something crazy. Like get married to someone he actually cares about or start training Dragons. I would think –"

"Just shut up, Marlow." I looked over at Draco for the first time in a while. He was curled up with his arms resting on his knees and his face hidden in between. His voice hiccupped slightly as he said with more force, "Just shut the hell up."

I watched him closely. I took many long drags while Draco's chest shuddered every so often.

I felt sad. Because I realized that people are broken in certain ways that can't ever be fixed. This is something people forget to tell you when you are young and it hasn't yet failed to surprise me how the people around me break one by one. I wonder when my turn is going to be . . . or if it's already happened.

* * *

I ended up walking around campus with Draco. We didn't talk, just walked. What I did notice however was that there were adults around. Adults who weren't teachers. Their robes weren't black or the same style. It was strange of course but I didn't think much of it. Sure, no other witch or wizard is supposed to be on the Hogwarts campus but why should I really care who is hanging around, as long as they don't affect me.

There seemed to be more people lurking around on Monday and Tuesday. The school was still very solemn but we had classes. I grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet Wednesday and I am glad to discover I missed the big Sunday headline Granger had mentioned. Instead my name was merely laced with the headline. _Ministry of Magic Officially Takes Over C.W.C. _

When I saw this headline I internally screamed. I literally tore off to find Draco or Blaise. I was infuriated, I couldn't believe it! When had this happened? When was this even an option? I –"Draco!" I shouted up seeing him coming towards the great hall.

"What is it?" I held up the headline as I walked towards him.

"Bollocks," was Blaise's response.

Draco's face contorted with thought until he replied, "It isn't my problem."

"Hate to break it to you," I said smacking the paper against his chest. "It's your problem because it's my problem."

"Let our father's take care of it."

I shoved the paper into his chest. "Oh yes and just have your future income, the money that is going to keep you living like a little prince be swallowed up by the Order of the Pheonix? I think not. You're joined to my hip, _Malfoy,_ I suggest you take a deeper intrest." God, I sounded like such a fucking bitch.

"Whatever," Draco said pushing past me. "Do whatever the fuck you want."

I stared after him. In my mind, my mouth was hanging open. I was surprised, to put it simply. The prince was either not concerned with his fortune; really hated the concept of business; there was something else on his mind ; or he was indeed a broken boy.

That evening, I found myself sitting in Dumbledore's office. I had been summoned after my last class. God I hated this old coot. He was such a fucking – "I am sorry to make you wait, Ms. Marlow," the old man had arrived. "Mr. Malfoy took a little while to find." He had a disgusting twinkle in his eye as I mentally groaned. What was Draco doing here?

The little prince flopped down in the chair next to me and Dumbledore sat down. "I am sure you both have heard of the news regarding the Chamber of Wizarding Commerce."

"And here I thought you were going to offer us your sympathy," I said letting the sarcasm drip off each of my words.

"I am sorry for your loss, Miss Marlow but actually that is what brings us here today." He leaned forward on his desk. "I am here asking you two if you would join the Order of the Pheonix."

"And be one your little minions?" Draco asked, his upper lip curling in disgust.

"You two suddenly have a considerable influence in what is left of Deatheater high society. Miss Marlow your father's company now can –"

"My father's company is not a political statement," I cut him off sharply. "The C.W.C. may be controlled by the Ministry, a fancy extension of the Order but we exist to achieve our business goals."

"Miss Marlow I suggest your reconsider your thinking," Dumbledore said, touching his glasses. Out of the woodwork (so to speak) came about a dozen aurors. So aurors were on our campus. Great. "I am offering you a chance. Voldemort is still a terrible threat. You and Mr. Malfoy have valuable connections that could very well lead to his downfall. We need you."

He stopped speaking and let it soak in. I glanced at the prince who seemed to be in a different room than me. "Why?" he asked a few moments later. "Why the fuck should we care? Whatever we do will have little to no influence on the outcome. Are you really so desperate that you need to children of rich men to be your spies?" Draco stood up in his seat.

"I strongly _urge _you two to reconsider," Dumbledore said, standing as well, as though his presence would stop us from leaving. "Miss Marlow your father—"

"Professor," I said calmly. "My _dead _father has little to do with this. Look, we really have no reason to care about what you are saying and you can't make us."

"You're making a great mistake," some auror said as I left.

"Why because our livelihood isn't on the line if the Order fails?" Looking back on it, I don't remember whether it was Draco or I who said that. I suppose you will just have to figure out that one yourself.

I myself had a bone to pick with someone. A certain Harry Potter. I found him practicing with his team and therefore, I waited. While I sat in the stands my anger festered. My slytherin cunning bubbled and boiled. In my eyes Harry Potter was stripped of all attractiveness he possessed and was nothing more than an arsehole who wanted to ruin my life.

"Xandra!" he flew over at the end of practice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said with a false smile. "Are you busy?"

"Nah, let me go get changed." He darted off to the lockerroom. The moment he was no longer facing me, my expression dropped and I glared daggers at him. I am sure someone saw because I wasn't exactly being discrete.

"How are you doing?" Harry asked, coming out onto the pitch with his quidditch gear over his shoulder.

I met him down on the grass. "Actually I could be better," I said looking at the ground as though I was reminiscing internally.

"I am really sorry about Baddock," Harry said as he came closer and wrapped his arms around me.

"I have a really serious question, Harry," I said, putting my hands on his chest. "Can I ask you?"

"You can ask me anything."

"I am under investigation by the Order?" I looked him right in the eyes. He couldn't lie to me. Wonderboy can't lie.

"No."

I was wrong.

I shoved Harry away from me. "Xandra?" he asked in confusion.

"You fucking liar!" I spat.

"What are you talking about?"

"I was just hauled into Dumbeldore's bloody office because they wanted me to give up my connections to Voldemort which I don't fucking have and you stand there and tell me to my face that I am in the clear. You dirty liar."

"Wait you knew before you asked me?" he shouted. "You were bloody testing me!"

"Show me a rule against it—I found what I needed to know," I looked him up and down sharply, degradingly.

"I am not the enemy!" he professed. "Why do you keep acting like I have it in for you?"

"Because you do!"

"It's the other fucking way around! I wanted the order away from you! I told them to look into Malfoy but then your father had to go and kill himself and mess it all up!" he threw his hands up into the air.

I was silent for a moment. I was stupid. I really was. Here I had been thinking the whole time that wonderboy was oblivious to my life outside of what I told him. I was somewhere in between feeling guilty and angry.

"You aren't as daft as I thought you were," I said in a low snarl.

"If the only reason you've been seeing me is because you think I don't know who you and what you do then you honestly need your head examined."

"What gives you any bloody right you judge me?" I shouted.

"After Malcolm I think you'd be used to people judging you."

Have you ever been so shocked that you couldn't move? That happened to us both at that moment. I couldn't believe he had the guts to say what he just did and apparently neither could Harry. I reached for my wand and he dropped his head. "Please, please let me explain."

"I am not going to delay a hex just so you can say you're sorry."

"No, I actually have an explanation."

I let go of my wand. "Is it long?"

"Kind of. Why?"

I sat down. "Needed to know whether or not I could sit."

Harry sat down next to me and took a deep breath. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Don't bloody lead me on."

"Alright," he said turning to face me directly. "But you have to promise me that you will not . . ."

"What?" I asked, wishing he would just continue.

"Let me just tell you already," he said as though he was mentally scolding himself. "So three or four weeks ago, Malcolm Baddock went to Dumbledore when he received a letter asking him to join the Dark Lord. What really sent up the red flag was that it was sent under the seal of the C.W.C. Malcolm went to Dumbledore for help and well, since you are the poster child especially after the indictment of your father . . . the Order knows deatheaters are well-connected and they think you know . . . a lot." He looked down before looking back at me. "Do you?"

I stared at his face for a moment, feeling far away from any sort of answer. Somehow I managed to speak, "Does it really matter?"

"It could."

I stared at him.

"Look Xandra," he said looking away. "I am not asking you to do anything. I am not trying to convert you into the order. I am not trying to do anything except answer your question. I hate liars and I don't want you to think I am one."

I laughed lightly. "If you hate liars then why on earth are you around me?"

"You make me feel needed," he answered.

I was surprised by the swiftness of his answer. "What?"

"You make me feel needed," he repeated. "I figured it out the other night. You didn't come to me because I was the boy-who-lived. You didn't let me hold you because of that. We may have fought about that fact but we solved it for different reasons."

"Are you calling me a needy person?" I said with a slight sneer at the idea.

"We all need something."

"So if I need you, then what are you providing me that I need?"

Harry shrugged. "Someone to care about you, perhaps. Human super-glue."

"Super what? I thought you just said you only cared because you were in it for self-fulfillment."

"You aren't bad looking"

"We aren't getting anywhere."

Harry laughed. "Are you still mad at me?"

"Tell you the truth I don't know who to be angry at so I might as well not let it cloud my judgment."

Wonderboy nodded thoughtfully. "Well in that case," he looked at me and tapped my shoulder. "You're it."

"Excuse me?"

"You're it."

"What's it?"

"It."

"Explain . . ."

"It's a game," Harry said with an overly exaggerated sigh. "You're now it. You don't want to be, so you have to tag me."

I slapped his arm. "You're it."

Harry grinned. "Now you're getting it." He moved to tag me but I slid away. He slid closer so I slid away until he really extended and got me. "You're it."  
"Not in your dreams, Potter," I said with a smirk and lunged for him. He evaded me and got to his feet.

"Catch me if you can," he said with a childish sticking out of his tongue.

I chased him around the pitch and when I tagged him, he chased me. Such a childish concept really but to tell you the truth, the physical exercise felt better than anything I had imagined.

I should have been somewhere else. I should have been looking and trying to discover what was going on inside my company. Or I should have been receiving a letter with the dark mark on it. But no, I was with Harry. For once I didn't refer to him as Wonderboy in my head because wonderboy was a gryffindor prince who tried to save the world. That wasn't Harry.

A long time after, I figured out why I ran around the pitch with him so many times that day. I didn't want to be broken in way that could not be fixed. And I didn't know how long Harry would be there, offering to fix me.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry this took some time to get up. I hope you enjoyed it. The plot is getting thicker! I hope you all enjoyed yourselves, I love hearing from you all! Kelvinate asked why I chose the name Xandra for the character. Well in my last story, Tangled Webs of Different Playfields, I was playing with this story's idea and when I when I watched Shakespeare In Love, the name Marlow came up and I just rolled with it. Anyway, see you all in the next chapter! 


	15. A Rock and A Hard Place

Disclaimer: I only own Xan and the specifics of the plot.

Author's Note: I was just doing a layout and I realized there are only about two chapters left of part one. Yes, part one. There are two parts then I am planning a sequel. Perhaps I am releasing too much information. Anyway, as always, I greatly appreciate all the reviews and support. Now that I can see the hits on this story, I smile a great deal. These next couple chapters are a bit serious but I hope you enjoy all the same.

Chapter Fifteen: A Rock and a Hard Place

I smoke way too much. You may ask how it is only now that I have discovered this but actually, after I played that stupid game of tag, my chest felt like it was going to explode. It was worth it though, not that I would do it again any time soon. I might stop smoking one day but for now, a pack a day is all the keeps me sane.

The CWC (a.k.a. Order of the Pheonix) declared Lucius Malfoy's temporary hitching of corporate horses was an illegal merger so two weeks ago I was declared CEO. How disgusting is that? I am what, 17 years old and the CE-bloody-O of a multibillion dollar corporation. To make it all more awkward, my uncles didn't want me to leave school, said it would make us look desperate. I get about an elephants worth of mail everyday and no sleep.

Malcolm's death had changed the lot of us and while many of us weren't thinking of it (bloody hell I hardly had time to think about how much I missed Harry) we all had a way of dealing with it. I threw myself into work, school and smoking. I also found myself sleeping in the common room because Pansy and Dolohov had made our dorm room their own little playpen (Their way of dealing with it all). Draco, Blaise and Morgan Moon were on the quidditch pitch almost every moment they weren't working on homework or in class. Daphne hung around with Avery and Theo while the latter got pissed nearly every night.

Today, Sunday, I walked into the boardroom a half an hour before I had a meeting with Lucius and his people discussing a possible partnership. Upon entry, I found Lucius and Snape standing close to one another and talking quickly.

"Alexandra!" Lucius exclaimed, breaking away from his conversation and striding towards me. These past two weeks have been strange because while Lucius Malfoy had always been a sort of uncle (seen as a future father in law) since my father died he has been extremely protective and affectionate towards me. I know what you are thinking, Lucius Malfoy, affectionate? But I am quite serious. While I am sure it is all for corporate gain, doesn't change the fact that I am getting more attention than his son has in seventeen years.

I greeted Snape as well. The potions master really has his work cut out for him. Dumbledore had been less than pleased when he found out I had accepted the leadership position in my company and the only way I was to get off campus would be for Snape to come with me. That leaves him with much less time to grade and way more involvement with my life than I think he wants.

Once the meeting started, Lucius slid the official documents towards me from the other end of the table. "Why are you proposing this merger, Mr. Malfoy?" I began, using a voice that wasn't really mine and formalities that weren't real.

"In that folder Miss Marlow, I included calculations that indicate that if we combined we shall reach global mass sprawling through a dozen markets which is unrivaled by all our opponents."

This is what my life is. Woopedee-fucking-doo.

I got back to school during the middle of dinner. When I entered the common room I didn't expect to see anyone and was caught a little offguard by Blaise Zabini staring at me from an overly cushioned leather chair. "Hey," I greeted. I threw my bag aside and collapsed onto the couch beside his chair. "Why aren't you at dinner?"

"Not hungry." He replied absently sliding me a couple of rolls of parchment.

I regarded them with a disgusted expression while I lit up a cigarette. "Those better not have the word 'merger' written anywhere in them."

"Copied the transfiguration homework."

"I love you."

Blaise doesn't eat much anymore. I've noticed this. He seems to drink more firewhiskey than ever, smoke more than I do and believe it or not, consume himself in books. I am not suggesting he is out of his right mind for I have seen nothing to suggest such but something is going on within Blaise Zabini that frankly I just don't have the energy to think about.

"How is the bathroom?" Blaise asked out of nowhere. He tapped his ash into the flowers on the coffee table and sucked in another drag so hard that his cheeks lost color.

"Stains still aren't gone," I said, exhaling as though it brought me relief. "I don't go in there anymore."

"Unnerved by death?"

"More like grossed out by the sounds of Pansy and Dolohov having sex."

"That would do it for me too."

"Why do you ask?"

"I think we should talk to Eleanor."

I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and turned to him. "Why on earth would we want to do that?"

"People just don't kill themselves, Xan!" Blaise shouted, grabbing a fistful of hair and jerking it out. "They don't just decide to give up because of one bloody homophobic incident! There –" Blaise choked on the smoke as he exhaled. His eyes watered as he got out the words, "There has to be more to it than that."

You know how I said once people are broken in a certain way, they can never be fixed? When I look at Blaise Zabini, I can see the stitches holding him together. I can't let someone else around me fall apart. No, I am not getting sappy, goody-goody or moral. If everyone fell apart who would be left to hold me together?

Out of all of our sorry souls I trust my own the least.

"There was something more too it," I said, chain-lighting another cigarette. I focused intensely on the orange light. "Before I tell you though, I need you to promise me something."

"What?" he growled, harshly snatching another cigarette from the carton.

"Promise me you will hold it together until you reached your desired conclusion."

"Done."

I exhaled and relayed what I knew. God, I haven't done this in a while. "Malcolm was getting letters for a couple weeks from someone under the seal of the C.W.C. asking him to join the Dark Lord. You know, become a spy or something. He went to Dumbledore about it."

Blaise gave me this look as though I was holding the secret to the Holy Grail. I rolled my eyes. "You promised, Blaise."

"Yeah, yeah," he growled, putting out his cigarette in the flower pot. "Come on, we really do need to talk to Eleanor."

"Do you have any idea what you are going to say to her?" I asked as he got to his feet and dusted the ash off his clothes.

"Somewhat."

"Well then do you at least have a wet rag?" I followed him as he marched to the portal.

"Why would I need that?"

"You saw what she did to Malfoy's face."

Blaise didn't acknowledge the dark humor in my remark as he usually does. Usually implying before Malcolm. I would shorten it to B.M but that isn't any more plesant.

You know, the slytherin commons is rather far away from all the others in the school. I have always commended the walk to everywhere in this bloody school for helping keep me in shape but if I didn't know any better (and I do) I would have thought Blaise had teleported us in front of the hufflepuff commons. Yes, we got there that fast.

Blaise suddenly started pounding on the portrait leading to the hufflepuff commons, shouting for Eleanor to come out. I would have considered telling him to calm down had I not been so irriated with how difficult it was to light a cigarette.

While the woman in the portrait was busy shrieking at Blaise to stop shouting, another woman in another painting addressed me. "What on earth has gotten you slytherin folk so worked up?" I love how she said slytherin folk as though it were an ethnic minority.

"He's on his period," I blew smoke in her direction and she coughed. Stupid paintings.

You know when you look back on your day, week, life and remember certain events but cannot for the life of you remember how they transitioned from one to the other? I have that experience when I looked back on this day.

I don't remember how we got into the Hufflepuff common room but we did. I don't exactly remember how Eleanor Baddock and Blaise got into a screaming match, but they did. I remember thinking of how much she looked like her brother. She would have been better looking had she been a boy.

Come to think of it, I don't even remember what started Blaise on his rampage of destroying the common room and taking out a first year. I do remember distinctly how he used about seven what I like to call destruction spells that could get him suspended; how Eleanor Baddock was screaming; how Blaise was taken to the infirmary by teachers because he was 'mentally unwell'. But to be honest I was too busy staring down a tall, blond seventh year who was trying to blend into the curtains.  
When all the teachers arrived on the scene, they were too busy trying to control Blaise to do anything to me except shout detention. Man Blaise really tore up that room. I should have known promises don't mean anything.

The blond hufflepuff tried to slip out of the common room and past the teachers but I was far too fixed on him to just let him run off. I ran after him. It must have looked pathetic; a girl shouting after some fellow running up staircases fullspeed. Did he even know who I was? I certainly didn't remember him from anything, and that's saying something.

I just barely made it onto the same staircase as he just when it began to move. "Bloody hell," I said putting my hands on my knees. "You don't even know what I want and you on the other side of the bloody school!"

"What do you want from me?" he asked, looking down at me defensively.

"What do you think I want?"

"I don't know anything about Malcolm so go away!"

"Why would I think you knew anything about Malcolm Baddock?"

His face fell (silly hufflepuff) and the staircase locked. He looked over his shoulder, as if decided whether or not to take off. "Please," I said, walking up to him slowly. "My name is Alexandra Marlow. What is yours?"

He sneered quite well. I was surprised. "I know who you are."

"Oh really?" I said, keeping a pleasant expression and tone. "How?"

His expression quivered and I knew he didn't have it in him to lie. "You came up a lot."

I quickly put two and two together, now that I had air in my lungs. "You're Logan, aren't you?"

"Logan McCarthy."

"Pleasure. Well now that we are aquainted perhaps you could help me. I am wondering if Malcolm –"

"What do you care about him?" he shouted, storming off into the corridor. "You didn't care about him!"

I chased after him. "McCarthy!"

He suddenly stopped and faced me, he looked about as distraught as Blaise. "You didn't care about him and yet –"

"Calm down, McCarthy," I said, firmly holding my ground despite the insults. "Malcolm might as well have been a brother to me. I want to know why he died. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"I don't know anything."

"Oh I think you do."

Logan was quiet for a while before saying, "We can use the prefect bathroom." I could have made a great comment but I bit my tongue. I was on extremely fragile ground with an extremely fragile person. Not a good combination.

Looking back, I really think that the only reason I was able to get Logan to talk to me at all, was because of the timing. He had needed to organize his own thoughts and feelings about all that had happened; I just happened to be there asking the right questions.

Well it all began shortly after the holidays. Malcolm had met Logan by accident when he was exiting a hufflepuff conquest. Logan wasn't a fellow very gifted with words but despite his fumblings and misuse of grammatical structure, I had no trouble following his tale of two souls helplessly caught up in one another.

Apparently their intimacy had started to scare Malcolm shortly before my bet with Blaise and Theo began. Come to think of it that was about the time he ran stark naked around the pitch. Malcolm tried to scare Logan away by sleeping with other girls and there were countless fights but somehow they stayed with eachother.

"He talked about you all a lot," Logan said, now staring at his wringing hands. "He would muse about what you all would think of the great playboy Malcolm Baddock being, you know, with a bloke."

"He had a right to muse," I said, knowing exactly what we all would have said.

"There would be nights when all he could talk about was what he wanted to do with his life. He would go on and on about you slytherins and he imagined you should do and . . ."

"What did he say I should do?" call me crazy but I was interested.

Logan thought for a moment then stared at me for a little while prior to answering. "He said you were too sharpwitted for your own good. I distinctly remember him saying he thought you should run off and train dragons or become a sailor."

That's an amusing thought, Alexandra Marlow, CEO of Marlow Enterprises as a grubby dragon trainer, shimmying up ropes and shipping vicious beasts all around the world. I actually laughed. "Please tell me he said something similar for Draco Malfoy."

A sour expression came over Logan's face. "Malcolm said the only hope for that git would be to run off to another continent. He doesn't seem brave enough to do that though."

I chuckled at the thought.

"What made all this stand out in your mind?" I asked. Everything else he was telling me sounded iffy and unconfident.

"It was the night he told me about the letters he had been getting."

I looked at him with interest boiling out of my eyeballs. "What did he say?"

"Look I don't know much!" he said, backing away as though my gaze was harmful. "All he said was that he was scared for you all and that he wasn't going to give up or give in." Logan fell still and looked very sad. "He said he would die before he let anything happen."

I got to my feet and walked towards Logan who looked like he expected me to hex him. I looked him in the eye for a good thirty seconds before I asked slowly. "Do you know what Malcolm did with the letters?" I was praying that he hadn't burned them.

Logan thought for a moment. "I –he—we . . .Look in the owlry . . ."

"Thank you," I was about to leave when he said.

"But there are um . . . other things that he might have well . . . hidden and . . ."

"McCarthy, I don't care about your love letters. All I want is to find out why."

Logan nodded. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything, it would be a fair trade."

"Don't ever talk to me again."

"Huh?" that was a little. . . weird. "Am I really that much of a lochness monster, McCarthy. You seem to know me well enough through all Malcolm said."

"That's right," he said looking at me as though I wasn't some heir or some snarky gossiper. "I spent seven years avoiding people like you, Malcolm and Zabini who like to make waves. Just let me keep my memories of Malcolm as I have them."

I studied him for a moment. "Do you think I came here purely to tarnish them?"

"Isn't that what you people do?"

I walked out of the prefect's bathroom. I should have thanked him, after all it was a stroke of luck to have gotten so much out of him. But really, that comment had killed the mood. I found myself running up the stairs to the owlry at increasing speed hoping that if I got there quick enough, the fact that I am an awful person wouldn't catch up with me.

I reached the owlry and found myself alone save the thousands of pairs of eyes staring at me. Now what the bloody hell was his bird's name? Bertrude? Bernard? Balthazar? "Barnaby!" I shouted, the name suddenly gracing me. A hundred owls were instantly disturbed by my outburst and I covered my head to avoid getting hit with owl droppings.

One particular owl hooted close to me. It was regal with spots that reminded me of Malcolm's scattered tastes. Then it hit me… how the fuck did I expect to find these letters?

"Alright, Barnaby," I said, looking straight at the owl. "I need you to—" I stopped short when I realized I was talking to an owl about a complex subject.

I stood there for a moment with my lips pursed. I couldn't just accio letters. That would be silly—I would be hit with far too many! But maybe . . . I pulled my wand from my robes and aimed it at Barnaby. "Accio Dark Mark," I whispered.

Nothing happened.

"Bollocks."

Suddenly, something hit me from behind. I spun around and found the seal of a letter staring up at me. It was sealed with the Dark Mark. Wait—sealed? As in it wasn't opened?

Before I could go farther on that train of thought, a stream of letters came shooting out towards me from a cranny in the stone wall. I blocked my face with my arms and turned away. The owls went into a complete frenzy and I prayed I wouldn't get knocked in the head or anything.

When I felt everything settle down, I lowered my arms and looked around. I was standing in a sea of letters. I collapsed to my knees and grabbed at them, searching for a name. They all carried the unbroken seal of the Dark Mark. I looked at letters a fistful at a time, specifically at the addresses. But there was one thing that bothered me.

They were not addressed to Malcolm. Not a single one.

In fact, each was addressed to someone different.

I knew every person.

I stared at the letters, each had _By Care of Malcolm Baddock _written on it. Frustration began to build in the depths of my being and I wanted to scream. Confusion. For the first time in my life I was really confused.

I gathered up the letters and tried to think of what Malcolm must have done. He would have been confused at who was sending them. He wouldn't have just hid them right off the bat. He would have had to think about what they were, what they could do if people found them. He would have gone to his dorm.

My confusion subsided as a plan landed upon me. The next step was his dorm.

I was very careful about going to his dorm. I didn't want to have to explain myself to anyone. It worked out quite well actually. Blaise was in the hospital wing and the other two boys in Malcolm's dorm were at quidditch practice, along with Draco. Everyone else was doing something with their lives I suppose which left the place rather quiet.

I climbed onto his old bed, trying to ignore the awkward feeling in the back of my mind. I dumped the letters onto the mattress. It had been difficult to carry all of them. I wonder if it had something to due with the fact that there is about fifty of them? I hope my sarcasm isn't misleading.

Anyway I laid the letters out and examined them. At first I simply assumed they were all addressed to slytherins but upon more intense brainstorming, I recognized a couple names from Ravenclaw.

What was the bloody connection? Why were these many kids getting letters from Deatheaters and more over, why did Malcolm get them to give to all of us? Money? No—I can only think of a handful of kids that actually have access to funds. I could think of plenty of house things that would connect kids of age but first years and ravenclaws were addressed!

I took deep breaths as I tried to compose myself. I was ripped out of my state of calm by Pansy's shrill cry. "Xan! Xan Marlow! Xan!"

"Yes mother?" I called as I stuffed the letters under the covers and went to the stairwell. She must have alerted everyone in the entire bloody dorms.

Two parcels came sailing towards me. "Get your own bloody mail!" she shouted.

I snatched them up and sent a sour expression down the stairs. "If you weren't so enthusiastic about being Dolohov's wanton then maybe I would get the chance to pick it up."

I heard her gasp of shock but she didn't dare get into a battle of wits with me. At least I had something going for me. Her last comment was, "At least keep the bloody birds away from our windows!"

"Send them over here," I called as I shut the door.

I walked back to the bed and examined what I had received by owl. First of all was a large envelope from Lucius Malfoy. Merger papers, woopdedoo. The second was—

I froze.

By Care of Owl 

_Miss Alexandra and Mr. Draco_

_Marlow-Malfoy_

The Dark Mark sealed the letter. I fled. But not before tucking all the other letters safely under Malcolm's bed.

I didn't know where I was going really. I just was having another mental –what's the word—event? Well, whatever was going on with me, it caused me to trip on the stairs. The letter flew out of my hand. I snatched it up off the stone as quickly as I could, not caring if I looked like a lunatic.

The edge was ripped.

I sucked in a deep breath. My fingers slowly began to act on their own accord. I dashed into the girls bathroom when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to stop myself from tearing open the letter. I should have probably not opened the letter in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom but hey, I was distraught.

I trembled with every word of elegant script. I was scared out my bloody mind and I didn't understand why. I had to show Draco. I wanted to tell someone—no, I needed to tell someone. I wanted to wonderboy but—

"Xandra?" I looked up sharply, only one person in the world calls me that.

"H-Harry," I said regaining myself. "What are you doing in the girls loo?"

"Looking for Hermione," he said with a slight blush.

But I couldn't tell him. Not unless I wanted to be crucified by aurors.

"She isn't here, am I good enough?"

"Oh it wasn't anything like that."

"Golden Trio stuff?"

"Yeah, yeah laugh your bloody arse off," Wonderboy said with a roll of the eyes. He chuckled, "Come on, would you are for a walk?"

"Why not?"

I strolled next to Harry Potter for a couple of corridors without saying anything. I prayed to god I wouldn't lose control over myself like I tended to do sometimes around the bloke, that would be disastrous. The wanker had a way of making me forget myself.

"So what's new?" he asked. "Feeling better?"

"Better than Blaise," I said with a snort. Oh hell here I go.

"Hermione told me what happened."

"She would know. Does she have a lot of friends in hufflepuff or something?"

I looked up and met his weird glance. "What does hufflepuff have to do with this?"

My eyebrows lifted. "Aren't you referring to how Blaise single-wandedly leveled the hufflepuff common room and knocked out a couple first years?"

"No . . ."he said slowly. "I was referring to how Hermione broke up with Blaise earlier today."

I blinked. Bloody hell. "Let me guess. He had a fit."

"Hermione just said he didn't take it very well."

I covered my face with my hands. "I don't fucking need this right now!" I promise you folks, I am officially entitled to a mental breakdown. One that allows me to fall apart, become a total bitch and have big exercises of power for at least six months.

"Come on," he said taking my hand and pulling me down the hall. "Let's take a walk. It always helps me when I am stressed."

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" I replied sarcastically. I do not enjoy being his sick puppy that he must take care of.

"Well if you're going to be that way about it. . ."

"Come on," I said starting to walk. "Bloody wanker." Wonderboy just grinned and followed in step.

"You know what's really strange?" Harry began after a minute or so of silence. "I didn't know you until just a couple months ago. Well, I mean I knew your name but not your face."

"Obviously," I said with a snort. "If I remember correctly you shoved me up against a wall."

"I did not!" Harry protested. "I would never do that to a girl!"

I rolled my eyes. "A couple months ago I wasn't a girl, slytherin slag is I think how you put it."

"People's thoughts change."

"Obviously."

"You can't tell me you still think of me as . . . well whatever you thought?"

I pondered that for a moment. He was still the same Harry Potter as I had hated literally a couple months earlier. So why didn't I still dislike him?

"I perceive you differently," I answered finally.

"What is that supposed to mean, perceive you differently?"

"Instead of a pain in the neck I can see you as a bloke with a cute arse." He blushed. "Oh come off it Potter, I can't be the first person to say that. Really Weasley must have had just the same thoughts.

He stopped suddenly and I looked around. "What's wrong?"

"This is the place where I threw you up against the wall," he said, looking around as well.

"One walks past here every day what's the big deal?"

Suddenly I found my back pressed up against the wall and the lips of Harry Potter were really close. "What better location to illustrate change," he said huskily. I didn't know he knew the word 'illustrate'. Maybe my word choice is rubbing off.

I probably should have had better sense then to snog him in a main corridor but I honestly wasn't thinking. If I had been, I would have had to realize how fucking ridiculous we both were being. It was far from love, that much is true, far from honest lust. What brought us together was a similar insecurity and discovery of something that made us both think otherwise.

I ran my fingers through his messy black hair and clawed at his back. Funny thing about certain people I have noticed; their fear, anger or relationship with violence is visible when things get hot. I bit his lip. Harry tilted my head back and started snogging/biting my neck.

Then I had the worst moment of my life.

I opened my eyes, previously shut with intensity, and found several kiddy-cop aurors staring at us. As though they were waiting for us to finish. I have never been so humiliated in my entire life. It all got worse when Snape came.

Sitting in his office by myself and having to deal with his glare of disappointment and anger; I wanted to show how terrible I was feeling but I wouldn't be a Marlow if I didn't that now would I? Just like I wasn't a Marlow for not having a problem with snogging a boy in the corridors.

"I had hoped you understood Miss Marlow the extent and significance of your current situation but this _event _only proves that you do not. You are no longer just another sixth year student Miss Marlow. You are the head of a company and have demanded to sit at the same table as men three times your age. If you want to wield the power you must accept all the responsibility."

"Excuse me, professor but how does have romantic relations interfere or have anything to do with my professional status?" I can talk the talk but from what Snape was saying, that wasn't good enough at this point.

"It is about image, Miss Marlow. But in this case, it is about who you are choosing to get involved with."

"That is my personal business."

"This may come as quite a shock, Miss Marlow," his voice getting stern. "But you no longer have any personal business. Your shareholders and your board have a say in everything. Your opinion is only taken into consideration. You chose this life Miss Marlow and there is now going back. This arrived for you," he slide a thick envelope across the desk towards me. Merger papers.

"While I don't understand how self respecting person could be attracted to Potter, I must stress that he is about as good for you as poison is to plants. I suggest you rethink your choices before the board rethinks them for you."  
"May I go?"

"Yes."

Just before I was free from my humiliation, Snape had to add one more thing. "Miss Marlow, remember: because of Harry Potter you are in the situation you are in. If you decide to get help for your personal masochism, we can keep it confidential."

Those words swirled in my head as I found myself penning a late night request. _Personal Masochism_ is there such a thing? Really is that what Snape thinks I am doing? He makes it seem as though I am wonderboy's plaything. As though I am a whore to the Order because I find it kinky! Fucking preposterous. I wasn't snogging Harry for that!

Then the question hit me. One my seventh cigarette under a moving staircase at 10:38 PM. What was I snogging him for?

But that was only apart of the reason I went through three more cigarettes before my guest of honor finally decided to answer my request. "Xan? What happened? You look . . ." I looked up just as I was chain-lighting another cigarette.

"Thanks for finally coming, Justin."

"You sent me an owl asking me to sneak out after curfew when there are people patrolling the halls; I got here as fast as I could."

"I had a run in with them already, hopefully I've maxed them out."

"What's going on?" he asked, his brown eyes boring into mine.

I stared into his eyes. While I trust it was the cigarette smoke messing with my vision, I swore I saw what I was looking for. "What if I told you that I am . . . that I have . . . stumbled upon something. Now this something is . . ." Justin stepped closer as he sense my seriousness—this wasn't just a late night booty call. "It is, I mean it can be very dangerous for me. Because you see, this knowledge—in the form of a letter…s…betrays everything I know and have grown to accept. Well, I suppose I should say what could do with it would betray all that. I asked you to come here and listen because I—I'm . . . scared." I broke eye contact and looked down at ugly mosaic of cigarette buds.

We were silent for a moment. Justin suddenly spoke with a soft confidence that I don't think I've heard before. "Sounds like you're stuck between a rock and a hard place." Or maybe I wasn't listening.

"Here's the thing that has me, well," I glanced down and I think that he got the idea. "I know someone on the opposite side of the fence. I don't know exactly what he would do with this information but it's the type of thing I am sure his side of the fence would want their hands on but also there is me and my life and –"

"What did your father do?"

It wasn't like Justin to cut me off (even though I was rambling). I didn't ask him down here for that!

"What in the bloody hell do you mean what did my father do? My father didn't kill himself because he and everyone he knew were getting letters from the Dark Lord!"

"How do you know?"

I glared at him. Truth be told I didn't know why my father killed himself that night. Hell, I wasn't even sure why Malcolm killed himself. I have an idea but that doesn't mean didily squat. You can't answer things with an idea! It just isn't finished like that!

And then I realized what I had wanted Justin to tell me. I wanted answers. I wanted closure. And I was going to get it less I be squished by the powers that be.

You know, I think I have finally figured out why I smoke—I really hate my life.

Author's Note:

Long chapter there for you all, I hope it was enjoyable. More on this two part issue. The next chapter will be the last chapter for part one and part two will continue on this thread so there is really nothing for you to worry about.

Part two will be a bit different from part one. This part came out less about romance and more about the circumstances that surround how we pursue relationships and how we connect with people. I say we because I believe stories are used to talk about ourselves to some degree. Anyway, enough with this literary talk, the point is the second part of this story will go deeper into the romantic side of things and I promise that there will be more points of view and characters explored. I know that these past chapters have really been hardcore slytherin POV. Anyway, see you all soon!


	16. The Rape of Slytherin House

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter. This is purely for fun.

Author's Note: Thank you to those of you who reviewed. I am glad I have gotten a great deal of hits on the last chapter.

Chapter Sixteen: The Rape of Slytherin House

I collapsed into my seat at the slytherin table with a relief. I had just hiked up to the hospital wing before breakfast and trust me, after coming back from a midnight meeting with my lawyer, I could have done without the earlybird errands.

"How's Blaise-y boy," Teddy drawled taking a long swig of pumpkin juice.

A yes, it was morning and the news had hit the school no thanks to those fucking gryffindors. Yes, slytherin house had another convulsion. We protect our own though you have to give us that. Daphne (yes the squeamish one) completely knocked some ravenclaw for saying to her friends "Maybe the Zabini boy will kill himself next."

"Malnutrition and deliria induced by excessive alcohol. Recovery is set for 4:15 this afternoon. Still ranting though."

"Must you make it sound like you're some bloody mediwitch?" Draco asked, scowling while he picked at his eggs.

"What else can we expect from the great Miss Marlow," Moon said, cocking her head back and forth in a mocking way.

"What has your panties in a twist?" Avery asked, leacherous tone present as always.

"You were the last one, Marlow," Moon said gnawing on a sausage to add to her quidditch physique. "First Daphne snors, then Pansy's insatiable sex-drive with _Dolohov _of all people—" her face churned in disgust. "Then you have to come in at 2 in the bloody morning whining to yourself about some bloody business thing. Oh and did I mention your _fucking bird_ woke me up carry bloody packages!"

"Ugh," I groaned, wrapping my fingers up in my hair. "Lucius will not get off my case about these papers he is drowning me! Bastard."

"You're merging with my father?" Draco looked at me as though it was new news.

It was.

"I am thinking about it. My lawyers don't understand why he wants to do it. The numbers show that it would send more revenue to my paycheck than his."

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice wasn't getting any louder but his lip was curling.

"Why?" Moon interjected. "You don't sit on her board or your fathers."

As Moon and Draco got into a battle of glares, my mind drifted back to the address on my letter. _Alexandra and Draco Marlow Malfoy_. Who the fuck writes like that? My stomach churned. It felt as though there was something staring at me right in the face and I couldn't see it. The thought of signing away my independent rights on Marlow Enterprises really made me sick, not to mention I was suddenly on edge about Lucius Malfoy in general.

In short, I became extremely irritable and sharp. I fear that if I said impulsive I would sound like I belonged in a different house.

On the way out of the Great Hall, I was walking with the usual suspects. "What exactly set Zabini off?" Avery asked.

"Yeah how badly did he tear up Hufflepuff commons?" Teddy added.

"Oh god that placed looked like a bloody war zone," I said recalling. "Stupid hufflepuffs didn't lift a finger. Did you know he knocked a couple out?"

"He should lose control more often," Teddy said with a nod, "Makes gossip more interesting."

"Oh you'll love this," I said. Have you noticed when I get irritable and sharp I also get gossipy and snarky? "I originally thought he had just gone nutters but apparently, Granger had caused it."

They all wanted to know. And I gave them answers—even if they weren't true.

"You never know about those quiet types," I said. "She must have had some tricks in the sheets."

"Not like Zabini hasn't seen his share," Moon quipped. "Must have really been experienced."

"If she's that fast I'll have to try her," Draco said thoughtfully. "I could deal with a mudblood in bed."

"You lot are absolutely repulsive!" If it wasn't little miss know-it-all and her gryffindork companions. "How dare you even suggest that it was my fault Zabini attacked poor Eleanor Baddock and her house!"

"Just like Harry Potter isn't responsible for Diggory's death," Draco chided.

"Hey!" oh great here comes wonderboy and his posse. "Watch your bloody mouth, Malfoy!"

"Yeah Granger," I sneered. "Better watch your step. Don't want to get caught saying the first name of the boy the entire school knows you were shagging for weeks. Oh wait—" I smirked in a stick, sneering sort of way. "Maybe it was just our entire house who knew the details."

I saw her face pale at the thought of people like us knowing about her sexual secrets. Truth be told we didn't but damn I can call a good bluff.

"That has absolutely nothing to do with the incident at hand."

"Doesn't it?" You know, several months ago, all this talk would have been nothing but good gossip. Good hassling material you know? But that protective whiplash had kicked in and it was all mean-spirited. You know when your blood boils for no good reason and you just want to tear apart the person you're talking to? This was something like that.

"I think it has a lot to do with it, mudblood," I snapped. "Because of what you did to my friend he drank himself to pieces and is now in the _hospital wing_! Or maybe you would notice that if you thought about anything except your precious reputation and your wonderful Order of the Pheonix," I demeaned each noun I attributed to her. "You stupid fucking mudblood." Wow, mudblood two times in the same statement when I had never used it in years or well—ever.

"Spin your words however you want, Marlow," she said looking me up and down like she was better than me. "I expected more from you. After all, don't you run some import export business that survives on slave labor? Oh and no wonder you're so hostile to Dumbledore considering your father was a deatheater! Not only that but so is everyone remotely connected to you. Yes, I'd say you have a reason to try and talk me down but truth me told, Marlow everything you pride yourself on depends on it!"

I stepped closer to her, "Oh did Blaise tell you that one did 'e? Well I hope he told you more about what all us big scary deatheaters can do," I stepped closer and closer until we were nearly breast to breast. "Like how we can call certain people and have them come and kill you in your sleep or take you away in the night. Or how You-Know-Who started a trend of grinding bones to make his follower's bread."

"Fear of the name only creates fear of the thing itself."

I sneered, resisting the urge to spit. "What is there for us to be afraid of? Either way we win. You can't touch me with a ten foot pole, Granger."

She shoved me back with her finger. Everyone watching got quiet; just in time for me to slap her across the face.

She raised her as if to go for her wand but one of the other gryffindor girls grabbed it. I expected that. But when I reached for my wand, I didn't expect someone to grab my hand.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" Draco shouted, shoving the person who had grabbed my hand.

"I need to talk to you," he whispered harshly and began to lead me away.

"What the bloody hell?" I heard Ronaldo and/or Teddy say.

"Marlow!" Draco shouted.

"Hang on!" I called back. "Meet you in potions."

Harry shoved me up behind a suit of armor once we were out of sight. "What the hell was that?"

I sneered at him. "You mess with my friends and I mess with yours."

"So this is about me?"

"You'd like to think so wouldn't you?"

"Dammit, Xandra can you please not play games with me?"

"Games me? Never."

"Why did you have to call her a mudblood?" he asked in an exasperated tone. "I thought you were better then that."

"Did you hear the way she insulted me!"

"You called her slag and she isn't."

"My best mate is in the hospital wing for being delirious because of her!"

His hand caressed my cheek. "I know how hard that is but please—"

"Please what, Harry? You don't know a thing about what I am going through! It's easy for you!" I lowered my voice so no one would hear but kept the intensity. "You can just run to Dumbledore whenever you see the Dark Mark but it isn't so easy for me."

"The Dark Mark?" he paused and stared at me. "Xandra are you . . . a deatheater?" he whispered.

I lifted my arms and sleeves came down. "They will have to skin me alive but no one seems the have a problem doing so."

Silence. I hate it when there is silence between us.

"I will always look out of you," he whispered.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I shoved him away. "I think you're safer twisting in your feelings of emotional uselessness than endangering your health running after me."

"Xandra—"

"I have things to do, Harry," I said signaling for Draco and the boys to come my way. They glared at Harry as they passed but said nothing suggestive. A miracle if I ever saw one.

* * *

"So this is it?" Draco examined the letter and envelope I had received the day before.

"Ring any bells," I asked, blowing smoke into the empty dormitory.

"You would like it to, wouldn't you?" he furrowed his brows. "Why did you show me?"

"Because it was addressed to you as well." He gave me a look illustrating his displeasure for my sarcasm. "I thought you might know why it's addressed in that god-awful fashion."

"It's not like you haven't received documents addressed like this before."

"Those had a seal on them that wasn't the bloody Dark Mark," I hissed. "Those letters were from my uncles and your father. I highly doubt this is as well."

"Would you put it past them?"

I snorted. "you can't really believe they have a reason to be recruiting you, me and the rest of slytherin house to become deatheaters? Give my relatives more credit! The point is—and the reason I showed this to you—what is the significance of it being addressed like this? Are we betrothed or something and you just forgot to inform me?" I meant that last part in utter seriousness, have to cover all bases you know.

"Oh you wish," he said with scowl.

"Yeah I sure want to be legally attached to some dead weight," I rolled my eyes.

"For your information, _Marlow_, my father has been training me to succeed his position when I graduate."

The cigarette fell from my lips.

"You dirty bastard," I hissed. "You Malfoys are nothing but lying scum."

"Please tell me this hasn't just occurred to you?" His bemused expression fell when he saw I was serious. "Didn't he tell you?"

"No!" I shrieked. "Your father is pitching a fucking merger just to have you succeed when it goes into effect!"

"Yeah, and?"

"He's trying to bloody override my power!"

"Sorry Marlow, but you aren't exactly the most intimidating of businessmen."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You may be a hideous tomboy, but you're seventeen years old! My father babysits your more than listens to you."

I stared at him and lit a cigarette. With each second that I soaked up his words, my thoughts began to unfog. I was being used. I was being circled and made a fool of. So this is the otherside of what I spent six years doing to other people, eh? I hate it. I am not going to stand for it. I am better than that.

"Alright," I said, taking my time with the conversation. "But again, it doesn't answer the questions at hand. Malcolm didn't just kill himself for no reason."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Draco asked, scanning the letter for any clue he might have missed.

Holy hell, I think was his exact wording when I showed him the other letters.

"What do you want from me, Marlow?" he asked with his eyes scrunched as though it pained him.

"Now that you know it wasn't entirely your homophobia that killed him," I said, hoping that he felt bad—but Draco's probably over it. "Something's going on and I really want to figure it out before these bloody aurors do. You're the only one I've got."

"What are you talking about?" he snapped. "Get someone else to help you play Golden Trio. I am perfectly happy waiting for my inheritance to come to me. Get Zabini or—"

"Zabini has succumbed to delirium to escape reality," I said sharply. "Whatever Malcolm was trying to shield from us is now crushing us! Besides," I exhaled foul cigarette smoke. "If you help me, I will promise not to burn the merger papers."

"You wouldn't dare," his eyes darkened.

I laughed. "I thought you weren't a man for business, Draco." My tone suddenly darkened, "Perhaps you would like to do nothing about this and be indicted for supporting Death Eaters?" I felt like a snake the way I pronounced that accusation. I mean the literally kind by the way.

Draco's expression didn't change.

"You little shit," I snarled. "So this is what it comes down to? After I have known you for more than ten years this is how you help your friends—a member of your own house! We aren't supposed to do this to eachother!"

"Don't let any aurors find this lying around," Draco tossed the letter at me.

I narrowed my eyes and quickly calculated how I could get even (or partway there). I pushed past him and down in the common room, a picked up an envelope full of papers. "Marlow, what are you doing?" I heard his protests and made the conscious decision—I am no one's tool.

The ink they use on those contracts burns quite nicely.

I met Draco's sneer with a bemused smirk. "I'm impressed," Draco said, still extremely pissed off don't get the wrong impression. "Either that gryffindor wanker is rubbing off on you or . . ."

"Or what, _Malfoy_?"

"Or your company deserves to be crushed."

"Neither I'm afraid." I lit up a cigarette, feeling ridiculously smug. "Sorry chap but I really must dash. Ta," I left the common room with a confident stride that I hadn't felt in a while. While it killed me knowing how stupid I had been for so long, I felt empowered, knowing I could change it.

"Professor!" I called, knocking on Snape's door. "Professor, it is urgent!"

"I do not like to be disturbed, Mr. –"he stopped when he saw that it wasn't some student looking to talk about schoolwork. "Come in," he ushered me inside quickly.

"Can I ask what this late night visit is about?" he asked as I sat down at the little table I knew too well.

Time to take a leap of faith, Marlow. "I want my father's folder."

"What makes you think something like that even exists," Snape had the nerve to doubletask between his bloody potion and I.

"You're a spy for the Order," I said casually. "You didn't offer to help me out of the goodness of your heart. I am sure you have or know who has, files on every person remotely connected with deatheaters. Details down to their dental records."

"What do you expect to find in such a file?" he asked, still not deeming my important enough to command his full attention.

"Don't play me for a fool, professor," I said sharply, desperately trying to remain calm. "My father killed himself for a reason and it wasn't just to escape embarrassment of being sent to Azkaban. Just like Malcolm didn't kill himself because of our own house's homophobia." Snape turned to me, a look in his eyes finally acknowledging that I was serious. "Now I want some answers."

"What makes you think I can get them for you? You are about to become legally attached to Lucius Malfoy and if you know anything, you will know he is not exactly someone we want seeing such files."

"I have on intention of merging with Lucius Malfoy's corporation," I stated, locking eyes with him. "I am no tool, professor. Now can you get me the information or not?"

"It would leave less suspicion if you would merely tell specifically what you wanted to know."

"Forgive me if I don't trust your word of mouth."

"Right now it is all I have to give you. The aurors had made professor privileges difficult to cash in on. Now ask, before someone notices you are gone."

"Why was my father arrested?"

"Don't you know the answer to this?"

"I am starting at the beginning."

"The Order and Ministry of Magic believe he had broken the deal they had shared and was harboring the Dark Lord."

"What deal?"

"Zarek Marlow agreed to spy for the Order, incriminating deatheaters he ran across in his field in return for the CWC to give his company space."

"What happened to this deal?"

"It went south and the CWC put pressure onto the company. They would have happily crushed Marlow Enterprises had Lucius Malfoy not kept it a float."

"Am I currently under investigation?"

"The more independent you become the more the Order would like you crushed."

"Would it have been easier to take down Lucius Malfoy and the like had we mergered."

"Yes."

"Did Dumbledore want to you to push me into that?"

"Yes."

"I am currently a pawn of deatheaters?"

"The less independent you are, the more."

"Is the Order bitter towards me?"

"Yes."

"Why did Malcolm Baddock receive letters bearing the Dark Mark?"

"He was a target."

"What kind of target?"

"A target to be hollowed out and used as a Trojan horse." I shivered at the thought.

"How was he being hollowed?"

"He was attacked in Hogsmeade and his emotions began to die one by one. That is why, if you remember, he was so close with his sister and his lover towards the end. Love was the last one to go."

"Is that why he killed himself?"

"They say love is blind. It is apparently, enough to make on sacrafice their own life—in Mr. Baddock's case what was left of it—in order to protect others."

There it was, plain and clear, the answers I had been looking for. Sitting at this table, in dim light, calm and sober, demeaned all the frustration and anxiety and emotion I had felt earlier, to the point that I wanted to just die.

"Do you feel any loyalty to me, Professor Snape?" I asked calmly, studying his face.

"You have nothing to be loyal to, Miss Marlow. What currently run, is not yours, it is still your father's."

"What do you suggest I do?"

"First of all, what is it you want?"

I thought. What did I want? There is no going back after this. "I want to be powerful."

Snape nodded. What slytherins we are.

"Will you help me?" I asked.

"Yes. But I warn you Miss Marlow, it shall be far from easier. It will happen quickly and with difficulty. You are pledging your life to something wizards three times your age sell their souls for."

"We've already had this conversation, I am not scared."

"Alright, then we shall meet here tomorrow night, after we return from your meeting. The Ministry of Magic is sending someone."

"How is it that you know this before I do?"

"It apart of the game, Miss Marlow. Whoever has the most information wins. Lucius is looking to be the victor."

I smiled in spite myself. _Whoever has the most information wins_. I was familiar with that mantra. Oh so familiar. "Never fear professor. Like all games, once you learn the rules, the boundaries and the duration, there is nothing that can stop you."

"Your attitude is refreshing."

"Thank you."

"If I may ask," Snape said, breaking the cool tone and leaning in. "You seem exceptionally calm at my descriptions of Malcolm Baddock and your father."

"That's not a question, it's an observation," I said, resisting the urge to stand up, and illustrate superiority. "But you know professor, recently I have decided I should become a little bit more, how would you say—open minded."

"Commendable but requires follow through."

"Because I must live up to an invisible expectation?"

"Your own father is hardly invisible."

"Oh but he was. Professor Snape you grew up much like me, you shouldn't talk to me as though every father comes home and spends dinner with his offspring discussing the workday and literature."

* * *

It was too early. My meeting with the ministry of magic was way too fucking early. Why did I punish myself by wearing this god-awful suit at 6 am just so I could do a courtesy meeting with some representative from the Ministry of Magic's new bureau? Oh—I forgot, because I am a productive masochist. 

Well if I am so bloody productive then why have I been having a staring contest with the Ministry's inspector for five minutes?

"I am sorry but I don't believe you gave me your name, Mr. . ."

"Weasley," the man answered, his posture unwavering and his expression equally dull.

"As in, Ronald Weasley," I said turning my head and eyeing him with interest.

"He is my younger brother, yes," this fellow, Weasley (hardly specific) spoke of his siblings as though it was painful. Well Ronaldo is a dick and while I would love to shrink this older Weasley or something, time to focus.

"So what are these new regulations your secretary said you would be bringing forth?"

He withdrew a briefcase and laid some fat bundles of papers on the desk. "The Minister is preparing a transition for a law that goes into effect next year. This law will state that all outfits of enterprise in order to do business in the UK must adhere to certain uniform regulations."

"If companies chose not to, can't they merely secede as they always have done?"

"If enterprises do so they will immediately be considered rogue and if found operating in the United Kingdom will then be arrested."

"I see," I noticed this fellow had trouble maintaining eye contact. "And just what are these transitionary steps?"

"We would like you to sign these papers allowing the Ministry of Magic to conduct inspections of your facilities in order to make sure they are up to protocol."

I read the papers and laughed. "Mr. Weasley, you can't be serious."

"I fail to see the humor in the minister's proposal."

"This is complete socialism you are proposing. If I remember correction Britain still maintains a free marketplace and until I see that changed, I refuse to let the government waltz in whenever they like and tell me how to run my corporation. If you want to conduct inspections you will have to initiate it the same way every other country does. In writing."

He pursed his lips and gave me this look as though he thought it would scare me into changing my mind. So the staring contest has begun again.

"If I may ask, Miss Marlow, off the record," he said, suddenly studying me. "How do you know my brother?"

"We are in the same year at Hogwarts."

"That makes you . . . seventeen?" he looked as though he was going to die from embarrassment.

"You're not a Daily Prophet kind of guy, are you?"

"It's brilliant, being able to achieve so much when you are so young."

Suddenly the doors burst open and three of my burliest body guards came running in. They ripped me up out of my chair and nearly dragged me out of the board room, another ushered Mr. Weasley out as well.

"What is going on?" I demanded. They didn't say anything, not the brightest of fellows, but by the time I saw Professor Snape, I really wanted answers. "Professor what in God's name is going on?"

"There has been a violent attack, Miss Marlow," he said gravely as he walked swiftly to the floo portal. "We just got word of it, Dumbledore wants all student back at the school."

"What happened?" I asked.

"There was an attack on Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in Hogsmeade. Voldemort and a group of deatheater were chased back to—" he stopped talked as he handed me some floo powder.

"Chased back to where?" I demanded.

He looked at me with a dead serious expression. "To one of your import outlets."

I stared at him, just utterly numb. Voldemort? Hiding in one of my outlets . . . I thought about it quickly. He had to have been hiding in my rigs, or more likely my father's rigs. Was he hiding offshore? How many people were they harboring? How—"Miss Marlow, please go already!"

"Hogwarts," I shouted into the fireplace and threw the powder.

When we arrived in his office, Snape wasted no time in giving directions. "Miss Marlow I suggest you go to your dormitory and pack your things quickly into an overnight bag. We shall then—"

"Speak with Dumbledore before consulting the Ministry, going through paperwork, issue a public statement and offer a reward for Voldemort and his followers' capture."

"You're finally getting your act together."

"Professor, will you come with me?"

"To your dorm?"

"No, I mean through all …this."

"I have to teach, Miss Marlow."

"I could pay you twice as much. You can't like potions that much."

He smirked. "I am executive of your estate until you turn eighteen. Believe me, we shall be in contact."

"I shall meet you in the Great Hall in ten minutes."

Then I quickly exited, walking swiftly through the corridors. There was an echo bouncing around but it wasn't loud enough nor clear enough that one could pinpoint anything about it.

Just as I was about to go up a flight of stairs, I collided with someone. Julius Tarquin, a fourth year from the quidditch team. "Marlow!" he said, out of breath. "You have to come quick, you have to get Snape, you have to –"

"Calm down, Tarquin what the bloody hell is going on?"

"Aurors!" he shouted. "Aurors are tearing apart the common room and dorms. They're arresting people! They're going to take us to Azkaban!"

"Did they say why?"

"Something about you-know-who," he took a deep breath. "Is Snape in his office?"

"Yeah."

Tarquin went off running and I took off in another direction. I had to dodge aurors, hiding around corners a couple times but it looked like the fucking cultural revolution. They were literally hauling people out by their collars.

When I finally got inside the common room it looked ten times worse then what Blaise had done to Hufflepuff. Everything was shredded, broken, ripped apart. Kids were frantic, going every which way, being shoved by aurors or hauled out by them. Several pushed past me to get out into the hall.

I saw Draco being dragged down the steps and boy was he not going easily. "Get your bleedy hands off me!" he shouted. "Don't you know who I am? My father will have your head for this!"

He caught sight of me, standing there like a deer caught in the headlights. "Marlow!" he shouted. "They found your bloody letters! Why didn't you burn those bloody letters!"

I backed up, shocked, trying to process all this chaos. I bumped into someone. I spun around and found myself staring at one of the aurors the had caught me in the corridor snogging Harry. "Are you Alexandra Marlow, daughter of Zarek Marlow, CEO of Marlow Enterprises, the corporation which harbored fugitives?"

I don't care what the experts say; smokers can run. It is true, fear (if you want to call it that—I didn't) lends wings to the feet. I ducked and ran without looking back. Sure this might look bad in the papers later but I will not, I repeat will not be dragged out my common room like a bloody criminal. I am not my father and I will certainly not be locked up in Azkaban the same way.

The burning in my chest was actually quite easy to ignore because my head was preoccupied with other thoughts. Such as finding Dumbledore and not slipping. I turned a corner and caught sight of Blaise.

"Blaise!" I shouted. He turned quickly and motioned for me to hurry up. "Come on, come on, there are some bloody aurors on the stairs!"

"What's your plan?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't suffer a heart attack or that a lung would drop.

Blaise was momentarily amused by my ability to run but quickly mumbled something. "What?" I said with a gasp.

"Find Dumbledore and if we can't do that, get to the platform and aparate to London."

"They have to be swarming everywhere!"

"I don't care!" he shouted. "We have to get to St. Mungos."

"I am not that sick."

"Hermione!" he shouted at me like I was an idiot. God he was still nutters, wasn't he?

We pushed open the doors to the great hall and shut them just before some aurors had a chance to see us. At the other end of the hall, I saw the old man I was looking for, standing next to some other professors, aurors and ministry workers, quietly discussing something—pretending the school wasn't being pillaged and students were being arrested.

"Professor Dumbledore!" I shouted. He turned, everyone turned. He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. With sharp strides I moved towards him, shaking hard with every breath. "You know they called you the best headmaster this school has ever had and you've pledged your life to helping students. So why is it, I ask that slytherin students of all ages are being dragged out of their house, their _family_ like a petty criminal?" I was halfway there and I just noticed Harry standing next to the man I spoke. "There is no probable cause! Those letters were hidden by Malcolm Baddock and have never been seen by the eyes of anyone else in slytherin house. There may have been an attack by Voldemort today that my corporation was a victim of but that in _no way_ legalizes this rape of my house! I am not my fath—"

"Xandra!"

"Marlow!"

I hit the floor and Iwas consumed inblack. Those aurors certainly know their stuff.

I wonder if I'll dream. I've never really dreamed before.

END OF PART I

Author's Note: So there it is, the end of part one. Everything happened really quickly towards the end. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves, I will get part two up as soon as I can. Again, I will be continuing on this thread so no worries. It has been quite a journey up to this point and I hope I shall continue to have all of your support through the second part of this story. Thank you all so much and I will see you all later.


	17. Office Space

Disclaimer: This is totally for fun. JK Rowling really owns everything.

Author's Note: So here I am, yet again. Let me warn you ahead of time, there won't be immediate vicious karma reprocutions( MissKaitou) right away but you will see it interated into the story. Special thanks to KittyKat for seeming to get exactly what I was putting through! yay! Also,I jump around with how Xan refers to time in the beginning of the chapter and I hope it won't be too confusing.

Chapter One: Office Space

You know your life has changed when you have to smoke in private. Yeah about that fourth or fifth time you coop yourself up in a small space so no one sees you lighting a cigarette, you know you have shifted ranks.

In my case, I went for two weeks without a cigarette. Two weeks! Yes, Xan Marlow, pack a day girl went two weeks cold turkey. Unintentionally mind you—I was in Azkaban; there wasn't exactly a vending machine handy.

After those two weeks though, I had one smoke and then nothing for about a month. I didn't even have time to sleep so again, it wasn't by choice. Then for about . . . four months I went up and down between streaks of cold turkey and puffing every second I was alone. It took me a while that I started smoking in the first place because of my schedule, seems only natural that now that would be what regulates the habit. However this last month or so has been a steady, once a week wind down. I really don't have any other time for it. It has become something I only accept of myself when I am utterly alone. Preferably in a closet.

Moving back to my original point, when I step out of this closet, I not only realize how much my world has changed but how much _the _world has changed. Yes, the big one. You see, back in June, Voldemort was offically pronounced dead. They even sold copies of the certificate! Though I didn't request details (which for some reason were far too easy to get). But you know the drill. Harry Potter is pronounced a hero, so is Granger and Weasley, yada yada yada, life goes on.

In other news, Cornelius Fudge is planning on resigning at the beginning of the new year. Oh god but if I go into him, I have to explain about that whole fiasco in March. You know, the one where slytherin students were arrested? Well, if I am going to tell it at all, I might as well fully explain.

Fifty students were taken out of slytherin house and only 2 actually made it to Azkaban for something (not quite) completely independent. Draco Malfoy and myself were th only ones to see the inside of a cell. Me; for charges of corruption and harboring a criminal and Draco; for having his name on the same envelope as me.

Needless to say, the entire governors board and upper class wizarding society, had a fit. Dumbledore nearly was forced out of the school. The finger pointed at Cornelius Fudge however, who had, after the attack in Hogsmeade was "connected" to me, ordered the aurors to search my stuff, (amazing they found the dorm empty) but the letter surfaced and you know the rest. We were out in two weeks and Fudge has been apologizing ever since. He desperately doesn't want to lose his job (he's a power whore) and the I swear he would tap dance if I asked.

Speaking of connections . . . I found out what really happened. It was prison information and that is always trustworthy. I am completely serious. So apparently, Malcolm was going to be hallowed out and controlled by deatheaters. That didn't exactly pan out, since the boy killed himself, so they wanted the aurors to find the letters and do all the shaking up of the students, hopefully creating enough distraction so that they could get inside the castle. That one didn't work out either. How could Voldemort resist and opportunity to kill the boy-who-lived when he walks right into their grasp (Hogsmeade). But whatever, I really, _really _have tried and put that period of time behind me.

Students eventually went back to school, like they always do. Blaise has kept in touch with me these past months. Draco didn't want anything to do with me after Azkaban and it never occurred to Theo that he had anyone to write to. House politics and student teacher relations were awkward up until the big finale (Potter and Voldemort). Blaise himself wrote that he was "busying himself with the usual suspects". Read between the lines and he was writing that he was fucking everything that walks to try and get his groove back. Granger did a number on him but honestly, I am past caring about that sort of thing. Theo and Draco became quite vicious with the quidditch team but other than that, nothing too important.

I always thought Draco was compensating and when we landed a cell together in the scariest-place-next-to-hell, I discovered I was right. He was scared out of his bloody mind. So much so that he demanded I share a bed with him so he wouldn't get arse-raped. Well, his theory worked. They actually had to someone specificully guard us so that we wouldn't have sex.

Oh and do you remember in third year when Potter fainted from the dementor? Well, he had a fucking right to! Those things . . . I don't want to talk about it actually. I had a joke about Draco but I was scared to. I went through a loop. Angry, scared, angry—I can only have one dominant emotion in order to make my life work.

Draco went back to school, of course. He could now play the tough-guy card and undoubtably was comfortable reclaiming his place as the most lusted after boy in school. Until of course this business with Potter. Yes, I am sure that got his knickers in a bunch when everyone was praising "Saint Potter" yet again. God, that boy was entertaining. But that stays between you, me and the closet. I can only be focusing on a single Malfoy at the moment and identifying with the lesser one messes with you mentaly.

Then there is me. Ah yes, your lovely narrator who is important enough for bodyguards yet forced to smoke in a closet. I myself didn't go back to school. Oh no, in fact, when Draco was returning to Hogwarts Lucius and the car stopped by hotel where I was staying, offering me a ride.

I handed him a notice of merger refusal.

It worked out smoother than I had planned. It seems after the Azkaban fiasco, Lucius wasn't too keen on having his son shack up with me either, but you could tell he was pissed. I calmly and articulately laid out my reasoning at the formal meeting the next day and that was that. Lucius Malfoy still owns the businesses that are apart of everyday business so he isn't exactly a far figure.

Everyday business. Well yes, that is my life. A lot has changed since the way I used to do business however. It all started in Azkaban. Without nicotine, with dementors and basically lifeless, I was refocused and have spent the past six months building back Marlow Enterprises. My fortune. My livelyhood. By god the work is enough to kill someone.

In fact it did. One of my four uncles died of a sudden heart attack—stress related, you know—and I was left in the middle of a mess of corporate reorganization and three uncles who desperately wanted their piece. So with a stroke of genius, that ironically came to me in this very closet, I put them each in charge of a branch of the company, meetings are now done tri-weekly, board style and decisions are still mostly coming from me. I approve anything. Mostly because my uncles are blood-suckers and I need the power.

Oh, another important part of business I discovered, are the people at the bottom. When I upped wages and actually made a couple visits to my outlets, I was extremely surprised by how popular I became. And by popular I mean powerful. Public relations has definitely been an increasing strong suit.

God, look how fucking boring I sound. Six months has been six years. But I asked for it. Kinda. Still… Draco plays the easy heir while I work like a dog and smoke cigarettes in a closet. I wonder what would have happened if my father hadn't killed himself. Oh bloody hell . . .I know I am soaking up way too many fumes when I start going along this train of thought.

I stepped out of the closet and took one last drag of my cigarette. "Miss Marlow!" I quickly dropped the bud and whisked it back into the closet with my foot before shutting the door.

"Yes, Marilyn?" I turned to my secretary the pinacle of composure. Yes, I have a secretary. There are perks to spending every moment of my life at this company.

"I was thinking that for your birthday we could go to Diagon Alley together."

I stared at her. I wanted to show how fucking dumbfounded I was. But I didn't because I am the boss. "Why were you thinking that?"

"Your afternoon schedule is completely free and getting out of the office would do you a lot of good. You are in here twenty-four/seven!" I wanted to argue but that was probably merely because I haven't argued with anyone in a really long time. I don't remember agreeing to her offer but I must have because the next thing I know, I am walking down Diagon Alley in business robes and Bruno (my bodyguard) trailing us.

Marilyn and I have a strangely informal relationship despite the formalities we use. She asks the oddest personal questions. Such as, "Will you be spending tonight with your boyfriend?"

I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes (very business faux pas by the way). "Honestly, when will you believe that I do not have a boyfriend, nor a lover or anything like that at the moment." I can take a lover anytime but I have a company to run.

"I don't understand how you avoid Lucius Malfoy's charms," she said, fanning herself. "The man is gorgeous!"

"I think the fact that I am the same age as his son, is what keeps my paws off of him," I said sarcastically.

"My god Miss Marlow," she said shaking her head. "When you relax you certainly become . . ."

"A smart-ass?"

"Well . . . yeah."

"Don't worry, I won't fire you for stating the obvious." It was true. I rarely got a chance to be sarcastic or relapse to my smart-ass old self. I suppose I revert back subconsciously when I know I have an environment safe enough to do so. It's complex but as long as the balance doesn't get disrupted, I'm fine.

"Miss Marlow, fancy meeting you here," I turned around to meet Lucius Malfoy just as he waved off Bruno.

"And you, Lucius," I said instantly going back to business mode. "What brings you to Diagon Alley."

"I could ask you the same question," he said with a grin that made Marilyn squeal and me want to barf. "I am here because Draco is gathering his supplies for his last year of school."

I followed Lucius' eyes and speak of the devil, Draco was coming out of the store. When the young Malfoy saw me, his eyes widened briefly (do I really look that different?) before settling back into a cool nod. Talk about awkward . . .

"You didn't answer my question," Lucius said, doing his best to disguise the superior tone in his voice.

"My secretary wanted to talk me out for the afternoon. The office was getting stuffy and my schedule is clear."

"Lovely," he looked Marilyn up and down.

I myself, looked Draco over. He had gotten taller since you-know-where and his hair seems (if possible) more blond. Suddenly his face twisted into a sneer. I quickly followed his gaze and froze.

Harry Potter.

I stared at him for a few moments before I noticed he was staring right at me. Bollocks. You know he has gotten handsome but that fact was miniscule compared to the urge I had to not flee the scene. I calmly whispered to Marilyn that I was going to go to the bathroom and would meet her and Bruno shortly. I bid Lucius and Draco adieu and quickly walked away. I didn't dare turn and look to see if Wonderboy was following me. I dashed into the nearest store and began riffling through my pockets. I really, really needed a cigarette.

I found one and quickly lit up only to be scolded by someone whose voice didn't sound any older than mine. "You can't smoke in here you know." I looked up with a sharp remark right on the tip of my tongue. That however, evaporated when I saw who was speaking.

Granger.

"Well fuck me," I didn't actually mean to say that outloud but there was no getting around it. "Funny seeing you here. It's been a good long time, Granger." I didn't mean to start up a conversation but it just happened.

"Marlow," she said, shifting into a defensive stance (and tone). "Prison seems to have given you nice business robes."

"You wound me, Granger. And all I did was say hello."

"Shouldn't be running back to your _job _or something?"

"You make me sound like a hooker.

"Pretty bloody close."

I laughed. This sudden conversation made me realize just how much I missed her. Ew. I just said I missed a gryffindor. What is wrong with me? I must have been smoking in that closet for too long.

"Hermione! Guess who I just –"I turned around and fuck me, there was potter. "Hey," he began shifting awkwardly. "You uh, never responded to letter."

I gave him a long stare as I took a drag of my cigarette. "Perhaps your owl got the hint that I have nothing to say to you, Potter."

"You should be happy he cared enough to send you a letter," Granger said sharply. "Do you know how much trouble he could have gotten in –"

I raised my hand. "I get it, Granger. Precious boy of the Order wouldn't dare fraternize with someone occused of aiding the former Dark Lord. Now that all of that business is behind us, it still doesn't change the fact that I have very little to say to you."

Pushing past him, I almost went out the door when Lucius walked by. "Bollocks," I cursed and hit the deck. Granger and Harry looked at me like I was crazy.

"He is gone now, you know," Granger remarked.

I got up and dusted myself off. "Now if you will excuse me, I really must be getting back to the office." God, I sounded like such a snob.

"Wait!" Harry protested grabbing my arm. "Can I at least talk to you."

"There is nothing to talk about," I said, struggling to get my limb back.

"Yes there is!"

"Fine," I hissed. "Can we do it somewhere where people aren't eavesdropping?" I glared at Granger.

Wonderboy thought for a moment before grabbing my hand. "I know the perfect place." He pulled me through the store and out the back door. Granger shouted saying she would meet him later.

He lead me quickly out the back door and onto a street I didn't recognize. Pulling me quickly around people as though it was some race against time, I thought he was making it his mission to make me feel like an idiot. I don't do this! As much as I was screaming at myself, I have to say my curiosity was a bit inspired by what he thought so damn important. Doesn't change the fact that I still hate this guts though.

Finally, wonderboy stopped at a door (rather dodgy looking one at that). He knocked twice and said some ridiculous phrase about mischief. Must have been a password because the door opened and he pulled me inside.

The door shut and we were consumed in darkness except for a bit of light feeling in from far off. A door perhaps? "Just what in the sodding hell do you think you are doing, Potter?" I snapped. I couldn't see a bloody thing except for the light that seemed way far off. "I agreed to talking not being abducted to some storeroom in Knockturn Alley."

"Would you please relax," he was obvious annoyed, either at me or whatever was keeping him from getting light in this room.

"Why because I've had sex with you _wonderboy_, that hardly means I trust you," I snapped. "I am leaving before Bruno and Marilyn have a fit."

"Who's Bruno?"

"My bodyguard," I said sharply as I focused on moving straight towards the light.

Suddenly I tripped and fell forwards. I screamed and my hands barely held my face away from the floor. It wouldn't have been so terrible, I could regain my composure after that scream but the problem at hand was that I could not move. Worse, it sudden felt like things were crawling on me.

I bloody lost it. I started screaming my head off.

I only got about two good screams out before a hand clamped over my mouth and I heard Harry's voice muttering an undoing spell. He pulled me upright with his hand still over my mouth. "Now can you calm down and talk to me?"

"Can to stop being a prick?" I said into his hand. I was so worked up it was ridiculous.

"Is that a yes?" I nodded. "Alright," he removed his hand.

"Can you tell me one thing before we start?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Where the hell are we?"

"The storeroom of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Fred and George Weasley's jokeshop."

"Oh merlin," I rubbed my temples. I felt so dirty.

"Alright, first of all," wonderboy began trying to be serious and professional. "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened? A lot of things have occurred since I last saw you."

"And I don't have the faintest idea what they are!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a roll of the eyes.

"We snogged in the hallway until we were caught by the aurors, then I don't see or hear from you until I find a letter in Hogsmeade addressed to you and Draco. I picked it up and was going to find you when I was attacked by deatheaters! Aurors then sent Ginny and I to be with Dumbledore in the Great Hall. Then you burst in with Zabini, yelling something about your father and Dumbledore's morality before an auror knocked you out with a spell. You disappeared after that! Nott and Zabini came back. Malfoy came back. What happened to you?"

"Aside from nearly going bloody insane?" I said coldly, suddenly much more angry. "I went to Azkaban _because of you_ and then after two weeks, I got the opportunity to truly lead my father's company. I really don't see what else there is to say, _Potter._" So it had been Wonderboy who had tipped those aurors off with that bloody letter. How it got there, who knows but –I am trembling with bent up rage.

"Now if you will excuse me," I carefully got to my feet. "Please let me out of here."

"Wait! Don't you have any questions for me?" I heard him get up as well.

"Should I?"

* * *

When I got back to the office, I had someone waiting for me. Professor Dumbledore. Never expected to seem him again. I hope it didn't show. "Professor," I greeted. "I am sorry you had to wait. What brings you here?" I was very careful not to let my personal distaste for the man show in my voice. 

"Miss Marlow," he nodded. "You have done very well."

"Please," I said. "Let's go into my office."

I sat behind my desk as Dumbledore took a seat. "Now," I began. "What brings you this far out of you way?"

"Oh no, it's really not out of my way at all," he spoke lightly and waved off my words. "It's a pleasurable trip. But I am here because I need to ask for a favor."  
"A favor? It depends."

"I would like you to come back to school, Miss Marlow."

I stared at him and tried to hold back my laugh. It came out anyway, in a hiccup form. "I don't mean to be rude, Professor but I really don't think finishing my formal education would change anything." I gestured around my office.

"You never know, Miss Marlow," he said a twinkle in his eye. "Please do consider it. You can always tell your board it was too give your leadership a less desperate appearance."

"My achievements in the last few months were hardly desperate."

"I am not putting them down, Miss Marlow. But you can't deny they were made in desperation. And," he continued as he rose from the chair. "Wouldn't it be nice to tie up all our loose ends and bury all our skeletons." He smiled at me. "I can see myself out."

Once he was gone I blew air out sharply and searched the drawers for my carton of cigarettes. For the first time ever I lit one in my office. Go back to school, was he fucking insane?

Then I started to actually think about it. I analyzed my actions, words and emotions from today, hoping they would give me some sort of clue.

And they did.

Despite how much I wanted to ignore the obvious, everything pointed to the same thing. I had unfinished business at Hogwarts. Even if it was purely psychological. "Fuck," I cursed.

I was going to go back.

So I pulled a piece of paper from the corner of my desk and began to scribble an explanation I could give to the board. Iwas completely nutters.

* * *

Author's Note: A lot of narrative, I'm sorry for that but I promise this part of the story is going to be more about relationships, romance and humor as Xan goes back complete her last year of school. But how will all that happens mesh with her other responsibilities? Sounds like I am advertising. Oh well, sorry this took so long to get up and running, I hope it was enjoyable. See you all soon! 


	18. Smoking Habits Under Construction

Disclaimer: Sadly, I only own our heroine.

Author's Note: In light of the recent Harry Potter release, I think it's appropriate to clarify; this story is written in general Harry Potter knowledge. New details/discoveries are going to be briefly crossed over in this fic because I haven't read the new book. Also, for the record, at this point in time, voldemort is dead. Big thanks to all who reviewed.

Chapter Two: Smoking Habits Under Construction

On the brightside, I won't have to smoke in a closet. Or at least, that is what I was telling myself as I prepared for my meeting with my board. Yes, I am doing this so I will not have to smoke in a closet. Some deep psychological motivation being activated I am sure but other than that . . .

Well anyway, the board barely, just _barely _bought my proposal. Once they had officially given me the okay, it was time for me to sit down and delegate all the office work I do to others; I would be mailed all the important things. You know what was interesting? When I actually sat down and started assigning things, I realized there is a lot of work I really am not required to do. At least, that is what this briefcase full of all my "work" for the month of September is telling me.

Indeed, I got out of the office with just a briefcase and obligations to weekly meetings via floo. Yes, I would say that Marlow Enterprises has finally gotten itself together. No thanks to Harry sodding Potter. The nerve of that arse, dragging me into the storeroom of a bloody jokeshop just to _talk_. He needs to get shagged by something, preferably not me. Maybe Granger?

Why am I talking about this?

I tried to focus on reports while the train pulled out of the station but my mind wandered back to my strange encounter with my old posse. Or should I say, the old posse I was apart of.

I had just gotten on the train with just my briefcase (already dressed in my robes) when I passed by Pansy's compartment. She was sitting with a group of slytherin girls (Daphne, Bulstrode and two others –Moon was absent). It took her a moment to recognize me (no idea why) and when she did she literally screamed. It was a short scream mind you but I did evoke a scream from someone.

"Marlow! What are you doing here!"

"I am going to school, Pansy. Lovely to see you again too."

"I thought you were locked away in Azkaban," Bulstrode interjected.

"If you read a newspaper maybe you would realize that she was released with Draco," Daphne hissed.

"Like you're one to talk," the larger girl retorted.

"You're staying for seventh year?" Pansy asked, ignoring the turmoil in her kingdom.

"Until I have other engagements," I said. Don't want to sound too attached to this bloody school.

"Are you going to sit with us?"

"No actually," I lifted up the briefcase, "business calls."

"Oh," Pansy said, her tone falling drastically. The circumstances of our friendship (not that it is such) are the same—in school—but obviously, we live separate lives. God, why does it sound like I had a baby?

Farther up the train, I walked past Draco's compartment. Typically, on the ride to school, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Crabbe Goyle and I would sit together. Every year someone different sat with Crabbe and Goyle, depended on size that year. Sixth year it was Draco I believe because Theo and I were smoking by the window. But this year . . . Avery was sitting with them.

Blaise looked up and we made eye contact. I could tell that he was surprised (maybe even happy?) to see me but at the same time uncomfortable. Draco looked up after Blaise had averted his gaze. He just looked at me, up and down and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. It was most unnerving due to the fact that for then years I had read Draco Malfoy like a book.

I walked on which is how I ended up here, alone in a compartment, halfway through my paperwork and halfway through a cigarette. The window is completely open don't worry, no one will notice. Remember when I used to not care? I wasn't sitting alone then.

Something disturbed me from my bubble of thought. I didn't even move my head when I glanced up. I was staring at a toad. I should be surprise but for some reason I am not. The toad hoped off the edge of my briefcase and onto my papers. I mentally tried to tell the frog that I would kill it and smear it's guts on the seat if it did not move itself.

"I'm terribly sorry but have you seen—Trevor!"

"Huh?" I jerked up, causing the toad to jump onto the window. Some kid had just busted into my compartment, looking distressed. Was that a gryffindor crest?

The kid lunged for the frog, I think we under the impression that I was going to move. I didn't move and the boy crashed into me, the frog somehow got into my robes and my papers somehow got out the window.

"Bollocks!" I cried, shoving the boy off me and frantically grapping at the paper which had just departed the train.

"Oh good god, good god," the boy was hyperventilating. "I am so sorry. Where is Trevor? I am so sorry."

I turned to curse the bloke when I felt something wriggle in my bra. I screamed and jumped, unintentionally flailing my arms as I tried to get the amphibian out of my underwear. Don't quite remember how it happened but the bloody toad ended up hitting the boy in the face. Serves him right.

The boy quickly tucked the toad away and turned to me. Steam must have been coming out of my ears as I surveyed the mess all my work was in or it could have been my cigarette smoldering in the upholstery; you pick.

"I am so sorry," he repeated, grabbing at my papers at the same speed he was breathing.

"Stop, stop, stop," I said. I gripped his shoulders and pulled him up to his feet. He was suddenly taller than I thought he was. Seventh year? "Before you go off messing up my work any more, how about we get introduced. My name is Alexandra Marlow," I held out my hand. Ah yes, the CEO in me is working.

"N-Neville Longbottom," he shook my hand.

I cleverly hid my surprise and while he wouldn't have been my first choice of people to meet on the train, I wasn't about to force him away. Can't afford to do that now. He really didn't look like a seventh year though.

Suddenly, the bloke started rambling on a mile a minute and all I could pick out right away was 'slytherin' 'sorry' 'your papers' and the rest, who knows.

His wide eyes were looking at me expectantly. "Pardon me?" I said.

"What could I do to make it up to you?"

I shifted my eyes from side to side as I thought. "Chocolate and some fags."

Longbottom shifted uncomfortably. "Chocolate I have but . . . what are . . ."

"You know," I said, resisting the urge to make him feel stupid, "cigarettes, smokes."

"I don't have those . . ." I opened my mouth to say something but he quickly went on, "But I do have sweets!"

Never in my life would I have expected to be sitting in a compartment, alone, eating candy with a gryffindor, much less Neville Longbottom the gryffindor clod. Oddly enough, he was quite easy to talk too without revealing too much about myself. A lot like Justin when I first met him. But I wasn't _purposefully _holding back information or lying, I just didn't want to frighten the poor bloke (he came off as fragile) with some weird blunt truth about my life.

The door to the compartment opened and Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas stuck their heads in. "Pardon me, is—Neville!"

"Hey guys," he greeted.

The two blokes looked at Longbottom, then to me and then to Longbottom. "What the hell are you doin' mate?"

"I was chasing after Trevor and and . . ."

Poor boy is verbally challenged, so I took over. "He knocked half of my work out the window and making it up to me by sharing his sweets."

Finnegan and Thomas (I am currently choosing to forget that I went on a date with the Irish bloke) surrounded Longbottom. I could hear them hiss. "She's in slytherin, mate! You can't let them bully you. Come on –"

"I am not being bullied!" Longbottom swatted them away. Apparently I have stumbled upon embedded issue.

"Please have a seat," I said. The two blokes turned around and almost mechanically sat down next to Neville. Dean made a move to grab some sweets but Longbottom swatted his hand away.

The silence was far too awkward so I wracked my brain for a conversation starter that I was remotely interested in. "Who won the quidditch cup last year?"

"Weren't you there?" Finnegan sounded surprised.

"I was otherwise occupied."

"But every slytherin was there!" Thomas exclaimed, obviously not getting my point.

"Then I must not be every slytherin because I wasn't there."

"Oh," they all said together.

"Well, your house won," Thomas said, sounding a bit pissed.

"Oh dear god, how?" I said making a face. Perhaps if I gave a little, they would do the same. "Slytherin house was a complete wreck last year. I don't know how anyone had the motivation to do anything."

Finnegan snorted. "That's what everyone else though too. Then Malfoy and 'arry get into a scuffle and the next thing you know 'is beaters 'ave knocked out every good chaser."

I laughed, "Draco Malfoy is so entertaining."

"You find that waste of space entertaining?" Thomas sneered. "Oh I forgot, slytherin girl, probably in love with him."

I ignored the tone in his voice. "On the countrary, he is very amusing. Tends to get obsessive about certain things. Maybe that is why we won the quidditch cup. Just hope he doesn't get too focus on you lot again. It's quite annoying to hear him rant about boys like some common pouf."

At this point the boys laughed and dun-dun-duuun, the great Xan Marlow has done it. We were conversing like equals in no time.

Several hours later, just when Thomas was getting to the punch line of his horrid retelling of summer with his aunt Mildred when the door to the compartment opened and Theo stuck his head in.

"Oi, Marlow," he said, completely ignoring my company. "You seen Draco?"

"Pleasure too see you again, too, Teddy," I said with a casual tone. He sent me a cool glare but continued to demand a response. "Why would I know where Draco is?"

Theo shrugged his shoulders. "Cell mates, bed mates." His timing has certainly improved. Wanker.

I got to my feet swiftly, "What is so bloody important?"

"I want to know if I can put a move on 'is girl."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you really need me?"

"I 'ave to entertain 'er, make sure she doesn't wander off."

"You owe me."

"I know."

I excused myself and thanked Longbottom then went up the train (Teddy went in the opposite direction—back to the girl) looking for the little prince. I was pretty sure Theo has thoroughly covered everything up to my compartment, he after all doesn't care for the needs of others. But when I began my search, I noticed a small . . . detail you could say.

There were about five compartments left and Draco wasn't in any of them. Which thus leaves me to believe that he is getting to third base with some bimbo in the baggage car. I wonder if that counts as an onomonopia. No no, third base has a 't' in it. Bollocks.

In the baggage car, as I predicted, I was greeted by the back of Draco's far too blond head. I didn't however, expect to be greeted by a fiery red one as well. I leaned against the doorway kind of in shock at the thought of Draco making out with a _willing _Ginny Weasley.

Ew! Just had awefully flashback to when I had red hair. Let me go puke.

When Ginny pinned a reluctant Draco against the trunks, he briefly opened his eyes. I know he saw me, we had eye contact for a good ten seconds! But what was most disturbing, is he carried on.

Once they were finished and Weasley turned around, the look on her face was some sort of consolation. "Ignore her," Draco said and beckoned the girl off. I moved so she could pass me. Draco and I began a heated two-way staring contest.

"Is there a specific reason why you are here, Marlow or do you just like being a voyeur?"

"Nothing you could do would be interesting enough to risk being blinded by your nakedness." Draco was very, very pale. "Theo wants to know if he can snog your girl. I don't mean that tart who just walked out of here."

"Watch what you say," he snapped.

"Oh come on, Draco. That was a Weasley. I thought you were better than that. You after all are the one that never fails to point out how much of a disgrace their family is."

"What business is it of yours, Marlow," he hissed. "You look like a goblin after all."

"My business as your best friend."

He let out a sharp laugh. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep at night."

"Pardon me?"

Draco sneered at me before he left. "If anything you're a friend of my father's but that's a special relationship."

He left me alone in the baggage car and I quickly lit a cigarette. By the time the train stopped I had fourteen buds on the floor. Why did I come here? I felt so stupid thinking that nothing would change, that I would be accepted back into Draco's posse simply because I was there from the beginning. Talk about rough, I realized I had no friends even before I came. And here I was, still smoking in a closet.

* * *

By the time Dumbledore had requested my presence later in the week, I was feeling pretty low. You would be too and I am not afraid to say it. My first day, Zabini seemed surprised and excited to see me but when Draco entered the room, Blaise quickly made it look like he hadn't dared to speak to me. Half-heartedly mind you but still . . . there was some sincerity in his action. Fuck.

I could have pursued it, could have cornered him but I just didn't have the energy. I didn't see any sort of gain. So I just kept to myself, my work and had a couple of unplanned conversations with Neville Longbottom in the corridors. But still I found myself in Dumbledore's office all the same.

"How have you been readjusting?" Dumbledore asked, choosing his words carefully.

"It hasn't been as easy as I hoped," I said calmly. "Though I believe it will come with time."

"Yes well," he said, adjusting his spectacles. "I have spoken with several of your professors over this past week and I think it would be socially beneficial if you took up quidditch."

"Pardon me?" You have got to be kidding.

"Many of your close friends are on the quidditch team, Miss Marlow. Surely they would be able to help you. I am aware you have never shown interest in the sport prior but I truly believe it would be a good competitive outlet."

"But Professor," I tried to reason with him. "Surely you can't expect me to be a successful player when I have no experience."

"Miss Marlow, you are a CEO are you not? Surely making first string on a house quidditch team is a piece of cake for someone on your capabilities."

Oh you bastard. He had me in a corner. So I left his office with a bag of quidditch gear I didn't know how to put on and a standard broom I didn't know how to fly. All I know about the school's quidditch supplies is that even the Weasley's can purchase better equipment. How sad.

Well, it was after dinner on a Friday night and I am sure every normal person was either snogging or getting smashed. I was trying to figure out how to get into the air.

I decided to completely forgo the quidditch gear, pointless because I couldn't put it on. The main problem I was having with the broom however was that I would push off, hover then come back down. I went all of about three inches into the air.

"Fucking—bloody—sodding—stupid bugger," I began cursing as I tried to push off with more intensity.

Suddenly, as though someone had hexed my broom I was off like a shot. I mean I started sailing every which way—like when I was with Potter only scarier. Being more than a foot off the ground caused me to grip my broom for dear life and thus, having me direct it into god knows where.

Needless to say I was shrieking my bloody head off and didn't even notice someone run out onto the pitch. I opened my eyes for a brief moment and saw myself heading straight towards one of the spectator stands. I let go of the sodding broom right there and braced myself for the fall.

Apparently it was too terrible but I did hit the ground like a dead squirrel. You know, that flop and then silence. I sort of faded in and out until some bloody arse started shaking me.

"Are you alright? Is anything broken? What house are you from?"

"Ge-off me!" I groaned, feebly trying to smack whoever it was.

"Xandra?"

I lifted my head. My vision was almost double too add onto the bad news. "Potter?" I groaned again and flopped over. Okay, so maybe that fall did hurt . . . a lot.

"What happened?"

"Sodding Dumbledore," I said as I tried to sit up. "Put me on the bloody quidditch team."

"But you don't play quidditch."

"Glad you've noticed," I snapped.

A pained expression—pity—came across his face. "Do you even know how to fly?"

" . . .No."

"Well . . . do you want some help?"

" . . . Yes."

His expression brightened. Potter put his arm around my waist and helped me up. "Come on then, let's get you in some pads and get you back in the air."

"Oh god."

"Do you know all the rules?"

"Yes."

"Any idea how to win?"

"Isn't that the rules?"

"No, it's knowing how to use the rules."

"Then . . . No."

Potter really was an amazing teacher and I have to say it was at least humbling to be at his disposal. Within an hour he had me doing a lap around the pitch. Even though I was going about two kilometers an hour, I still went all the way around.

"That was great!" Harry said, patiently waiting for me on his own broom. "Now let's try up and down."

"Can we take a moment?" I gasped. Pack a day habit certainly takes a toll on your athletic ability.

He chuckled, apparently he found this funny. "If you want to succeed at quidditch you really are going to have to stop smoking."

"I can do both," I said indignantly.

"No, you really can't. My new chaser just found that out."

"Well, _I _bloody well will because cigarettes are the last thing that are keeping me from slitting my own sodding wrists!" I shouted. I grabbed my hair. There it was out. I was miserable.

"Wanna talk about it?" Harry asked tenderly.

"Mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead."

I lit a cigarette and relaxed (as best I could) on the broom. "I am a bleeding outcast," I grumbled. "I have no friends except my secretary who is miles away and seven years older than me. I have millions of galleons yet can't even ride a fucking broom. I am more involved with the father of a former friend than I am with the son. I am addicted to nicotine but smoke in closets and look like a goblin."

"You don't look like a goblin."

I gave him a sidelong glace.

"Well," he shrugged, "Maybe a little but it's defining."

"What's defining supposed to mean?"

"Sexy," he offered shyly.

I hit him playfully and laughed. It cheered me up more than you would believe.

"Marlow!" someone shouted. Harry and I both turned to see Draco marching onto the pitch absolutely livid. "What the hell is this I hear about you being on the quidditch team? Dumbledore wants you sodding first string before November. You don't fucking play bloody quidditch!"

"Which is why, Malfoy," Harry jumped in, "it is even more pathetic that you send her out here to practice when she doesn't know now to ride a broom. She nearly killed herself."

"Sod off, Potter this doesn't concern you. Marlow if you are going to be on my fucking team then you are going to get into shape," god he sounded like a tyrant. "Twenty laps before and after every practice starting now."

"She doesn't know how to fly a bloody broom!" Harry shouted.

"Draco, it is late can't this wait?"

"Practice is tomorrow." He folded his arms across his chest and gave me a menacing smirk. "You are on my team now Marlow. You aren't the CEO here, better get used to not getting your way."

I felt like I had just been made a slave and sold to evil-rapist-who-wouldn't-dare-touch-a-hideous-goblin-like myself.

"Malfoy are you even listening? She DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO RIDE A BROOM!"

"She'll bloody well learn. Won't you, your majesty?" he turned on his heel and stalked off the pitch.

"What an arse," Harry enunciated. "Can't believe you are friends with him."

I gave a short laugh. "I'm not. He was the one I was talking about."

"Surely you don't want to be friends with him?"

"I was _replaced _," I said hatefully. "No one replaces me but he did. Known him for ten years, known all his secrets and there he goes treating me as though I am beneath _him_! It's-it's—"

"That's what it's like on the other end."

We shared a quiet moment of eye contact before Harry said, "Well, perhaps we should get you to fly up and down before we call it a night."

"That would be good, considering I am going to be tortured tomorrow for no good reason."

Harry was quiet for a brief moment before changing the subject. "Why are you calm?"

"Because I just had an out of character outburst and my bloodline is used to anticipating execution."

By the time I got back to my dorm, I was sweaty, tired, sore and feeling like crap. I didn't even care that I had just spent four hours with horrible Harry Potter. I couldn't believe that I was supposed to be an athlete. Dumbledore must have planned this, stupid old prat. I glanced at my business robes and briefcase addressing them with a sneer just before I collapsed. I need to quit smoking.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long to get up. I really want to finish this before I leave at the end of August. There are distinct similarities between this new plot and my other two pieces (the presence of quidditch) but I do want to say that this will be a story all in its own, no worries. I greatly appreciate all of you for reading and will see you in the next chapter. 


	19. The AntiPicnic Passtime

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the heroine.

Chapter Three: The Anti-Picnic Passtime

"So can you help me or not, Moon?"

I received a cold stare in reply.

In case you are feeling an empty space since we last spoke, let me fill you in. I realized upon seeing the quidditch schedule that there was practice before dinner, it became apparent that I would need gear and fast. So I turned to my roommate, Morgan Moon who I had done a few favors for back before the 'epidemic'.

"You want me to lend you a full uniform and pads so you can wheeze and lollygag around the quidditch field?" she didn't even raise an eyebrow at me.

"It wasn't my idea to be placed on the team," I defended.

"Yet you expect me to help you when I know for a fact that you can't play quidditch to save your soul?"

Her hostility was so evident that it made me feel foolish for believing we were friends. I told her so too. "What ever happened to slytherins looking out for their own?" I snapped. "I am not asking you to sacrafice your first born, just for some gear and a little help."

Moon maintained her stone expression. "That trait is still intact. You are the one out of the loop."

That was like acid in both my eyes and I fought hard to not let it show. "Why do you think I came back?"

She nodded, accepting the point. "No one wants you to succeed. Malfoy briefed us and made it quite clear that you weren't to last a day."

"It wasn't my choice to come or to stay on this team."

"I know."

We held a silent look for a few moments before Moon spoke again. "Quidditch isn't some picnic. It isn't just another organization you can control. It is rough, it's tough and will rip you apart."

"I understand that and I intend to survive."

She smirked. "Do you even know what position you are playing?" When I didn't answer her smirk only widened. "Fine, Marlow. I have a uniform you can use. It was my brothers. Everything else you are going to have to get for yourself."

I thanked her and exited with a bundle of green and silver cloth. When I knew she was out of earshot, I kicked the wall viciously. I was missing the most crucial thing in this ruddy sport. Without pads I would surely be rendered unconscious before I had a chance to even get near any of the balls.

I glanced at the clock as I exited the common room. Practice was in two hours. I swallowed my pride and went to find the one person I _knew _would help me.

In the library, the fourth place I had looked, I saw Wonderboy sitting with his two best friends: Ronaldo and Granger. I stared at him for a while, hoping he would look up and eventually he did. I gestured for him to come out into the corridor and he did. I asked him if he could lend me some gear and he said he would. He told me to follow him to the Gryffindor lockerroom and did; smiling to myself for having successfully created another system of predictable responses.

"Here is what I have," Harry said as he pulled a hunormous duffle from a locker. He unzipped the bag and began pulling out things equivalent to armor. His face fell when he saw the look on my face. "You do know how to use this, right?"

I remained silent.

"When's slytherin practice?"

"One and half hours away."

"Alright let me teach you how to get this stuff on."

We spent about ten minutes pussyfooting around before it became extremely clear that there was just no way to put this stuff on while I still was in my clothes. It infuriated me that he hadn't just come out and said it earlier.

"Harry?" I asked. "Is this how you put your pads on? While you are wearing your school robes?"

He looked at me and blushed slightly. "Well, no but –"

"Then why on earth do you think that it will work for me?"

"Well, I—"

"I came to your for help, Harry. Your shyness is completely undermining my goal to not die during this practice. It would mean a great deal if you would stop being timid."

"Me being timid?" he sounded shocked. "I just don't want you to be embarrassed! It's a ltitle awkward to ask you to strip so that we can get this stuff on!"

"Are you a pervert?" I asked pointedly.

"Me? No!"

"Then there shouldn't be a problem," I said as I shed my outer robes. "Besides, we've had sex together. Neither of us are blushing virgins." Guess who blushed?

"But that was in the dark," he said quietly.

"I am aware that I have extremely pale skin but don't go mumbling about it."

"No, it wasn't that –" I turned back around after removing my collared button-down blouse to find his mouth still open. I looked down at myself. I must be more goblin-like than I thought.

"Um, well," Harry said, quickly averting his eyes and searching through the bag. He pulled out a piece that looked like it belonged to gladiators. "This is for your um, chest." I nodded. "It's probably going to be uncomfrotable."

"No shit."

"Perhaps you can get one from that slytherin girl on the team? Moon?"

"I am currently a slytherin outcast, Harry," I said matter-of-factly. "That's why I came to you. Let's just put it on."

"Oh. . ." he said, diverting his eyes while he put the chest guard over my head and tightened it around me. I grunted unintentionally as he tightened it around my torso. "Good thing you don't have big boobs," he thought out-loud.

I met his eyes and the boy wonder looked absolutely mortified. It was quite funny actually. We both laughed while looking away from one another.

Next I had to take my pants off in order to get on these hideous thigh protectors. I say hideous in a how-am-I-going-to-wear-these-and-not-fall-out-of-the-sky way. At this point I looked like a completely different person. Very man-ish actually.

"Now these," Harry said, pulling out something that resembled a thick face towel. "Are shinguards."

"Fabulous."

"You attach them to these"—he indicated the thighpads—"and they'll protect your knees and shins." He began to put on on. I bent down to try and attach the other one just as Harry was finishing and our heads collided.

"Oof!" Harry fell back on his arse and I fell onto my knees.

"Are you alright?" he asked through a wince.

"Dandy," I replied while I rubbed my forehead.

He pushed himself to his feet and offered me his hand. I took it but due to all the weight now attached to me, I fell backwards, pulling Harry will me. Poor bloke, he half-fell on me and I think his groin his my quidditch armor. His head collapsed against my should and he shook softly.

"Are you gonna be okay?" I asked after a few moments.

"Fine," he whispered in a pitched voice. I awkwardly stroked his hair until he was able to sit up.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he repeated with more conviction. He smiled at me before he said, "Let's get you in the rest of your gear."

As he finished putting different pads on me he spoke rapidly about all sorts of things I should do to improve my game but frankly, I had no idea what he was talking about. "Do you want to use my broom?" he asked out of no where.

"I can barely opperate a standard broom."

"But you'll move better on it. You'll get hit by a bludger easily on a standard issue broom. Besides," he added with a cheaky grin. "You can always by me a new one if you break it."

"Oh haha," I said sarcastically then my face fell. "Truth is I could."

Harry explained the basic functions of the firebolt to me while I dressed in the slytherin quidditch robes. I really didn't understand anything except how to change direction and go faster though even that was theoretical. When he had finished, he handed me the broom and smiled. "You look like a real quidditch player."

"I look like a bloody fruit," I grumbled.

"Merlin," Harry said as he checked the time. "You better get going. You've got five minutes."

"Bloody hell," I cursed taking the broom and hustling out of the locker room. I went a bit too fast however and tripped over the oversized robes. I fell into the grass and I heard Harry stiffling a laugh.

I got to my feet and glared at him. "I was going to thank you but if you are going to be like _that_ . . ."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, a hint of snicker still in his voice. "It's just that. . ."

"Just what?"

"Nothing," he said shaking his head. "Hury up before Malfoy starts practice."

When I arrived to where Draco had the team in a huddle, everyone shot me a look of pure death. "Alright," he said coldly, eyeing my broom (or Harry's broom). "I want twenty laps and then we will start position drills." Laps I understood but what the fuck was my position.

That thought caused me to be a lap being everyone else just starting out.

"Let's move it, Marlow!" Draco shouted as Moon and Zabini lapped me—again. I leaned on the broomhead like Harry said and to my horror I started going faster—a lot faster. Next thing I know it was left, right, left right as I went buzzing around the corners. I thought for sure I was going to die.

"Marlow!" I heard Draco roar. "Get into your sodding chaser position!"

It took bloody forever to slow down, not to mention stop. I had to remember what chasers did. I found myself lined up next to Morgan Moon, Blaise Zabini and Graham Pritchard. Frabulous. Not to mention Avery and Cappar (the first string beaters) were looking exceptionally vicious.

"Alright," Draco began. "We are going to a game, minus the snitch. To see if you Marlow her has any balls." I wanted to sneer and tell him off but I held my tongue. "Avery, Cappar! I will tell you went to start hittting the bludgers. Ready. Go!"

The quaffle shot up into the air while I still had oh so many questions. It came right up next to me but Moon snatched it and started zooming off towards the goal with Pritchard right on her tail. "Move your bloody arse, Marlow!" Malfoy bellowed. At this rate I will forget my own name.

I flew off towards the goal (trying not to fall) when MacDougal through back the quaffle. It was coming right towards me and just before I grabbed it (with one hand so I wouldn't fall)–Blaise snatched it. "Bugger!" I shouted.

"Don't just sit there," Draco shouted. "Go get the sodding quaffle!"

I saw Blaise Zabini flying away, with my quaffle. I wanted nothing more than to rip it out of his arms with my nails. I caught myself, realizing that I am a CEO I have to stay controled. Then I realized this was quidditch–slytherin quiddtich and there are no rules except the ones you make.

It was like something inside of me let go. As though all my muscles were realized and I was zooming off towards Zabini, not caring if I could fall off. He was holding the quaffle and preparing to throw when I side tackled him. I mean the broom and I just completely smashed into him. We plummeted and it was actually a hard fall. When I opened my eyes though, I found myself covered in mud and holding the quaffle.

Two boot covered shoes stepped in front of my face. I looked up at Draco stone could but vaguely amused face. "Try to stay in the air, Marlow. That's the general goal of quidditch." I pushed myself up and mounted my broom again, handing Draco the muddy quaffle. I glanced at Blaise who seemed generally surprised by my aggressiveness. I felt like I was on the right track.

The quaffle went up again and Pritchard snatched it. Moon and I went zooming after him. She was ahead of me because I was concerned will falling off again. "Faster!" I could hear Draco yelling. "Move faster and take the bloody ball!"

In my mind I was thinking accelerate but the moment I realized I was taking orders from Draco Malfoy, I lost my balance and fell off my broom into the mud.

"Marlow!"

I was up again, in the air. Moon had the quaffle. All I could think about was quaffle. The next thing I know, I am sitting up high near Avery with a quaffle in my hand and Moon glaring at me.

"Don't just bloody sit there!" _captain _Malfoy shouted. "Through it through the sodding hoop!"

I flew towards MacDougal, quite slowly apparently and threw the ball as fast as I could. MacDougal caught it right at his chest.

"Oh for Merlin!" Draco cursed. "That was the worse throw I have ever seen! You are supposed to throw it through the hoop not at the bloody keeper and could you go any slower?" Draco continued his badgaring while MacDougal half-heartedly through out the quaffle. I grabbed it with surprising ease. He flew towards me still yelling, still badgaring as though he was better than me. That just because he knew how to play a ruddy sport, he could treat me like-like . . . This was a heirarchy but I would never, ever be below him.

So I chucked the ball at him and it hit, dead on. It couldn't have been that hard but it was something because Draco jerked.

The pitch fell silent.

"Well," he began. "I suppose now we can began our dodging exercises. I want fifty laps form everyone. Avery! Cappar! Release the bludgers."

He sounded like some war general. But I didn't really have time to argue, a bludger whizzing past my head got me out of that frame of mind.

You know, I had forgotten how good Cappar was as a beater. He nearly killed me oh, about every other shot. Why he wasn't actually hitting me, I attributed to Harry's broom. Draco was heckling the beaters and I was suddenly consumed by the necessity to go faster and faster around the pitch. Oddest feeling actually. As though I was sinking into a bath tub and the rest of the world was melting away. I went around and around without feeling the least bit repetitive.

Suddenly, I saw a bludger coming at me from the side. I jerked away from it, sending myself flying straight towards the mud. I shrieked and surprisingly didn't collide straight on, I swerved out of some reflex previously undiscovered and ended up colliding with the base of the stands. How graceful.

When I pulled myself together, the team was in a circle on the ground. Draco was up in the air, screaming at Cappar and Tarquin so loudly that his voice echoed. Apparently, they fucked up utterly.

I walked over to the group and asked what was going on, peering to the center. Pritchard was curled up in the fetal position and his face was to the ground. It looked like blood was coming out of his eyes and gums, among other places.

"What happened?" I asked. I didn't feel bad but curious.

The other members of the team present ignored my question and went about cushioning Pritchard and listening to Draco chew out the beaters. "Tarquin and Cappar clobbered Graham," someone whispered in my ear. I turned a few seconds later and saw Blaise looking away discretely.

"He can't be replaced! The only other bloody chasers available can't play to save their sodding souls! You both will pay for this one, extra practices! Every day because of you two bloody idiots!"

* * *

Turns out Pritchard was hit by two bludgers at the same time. His injuries took up a list and Madame Promphery had told Draco the only way he would ever play before March would be a polyjuice potion. There are a few people who can replace him: Avery jr (Avery's skunk-like third yearlittle brother), Crabbe, Goyle and of course, me. Undoubtably, the old coot would push for me to have that spot so you can see why Draco got purple in the face.

I took a quick shower after practice was finished, and was oh so thrilled by the fact that there was another one the next day. Why would someone do this sport for fun? I don't understand that! It makes absolutely no sense!

If you had seen me in the shower you might have either laughed or puked. My pale goblin body was deformed and discolored. Much like Harry's broom in fact. I am wondering whether quidditch boys go to sleep looking like I do and then become gods when they wake up. Honestly I see no other way someone can recover from this type of physical abuse. Oh merlin . . . what if I look like this forever?

I was walking back across the pitch in the dark to the castle when I heard a feminine giggle accompanied by a masculine chuckle. After glancing around for a few seconds my eyes fell on the silhouette of a couple holding hands.

Vaguely fascinated, I stopped to watch them stroll. It felt good to just stand still and run my hands through my wet hair. I was half-heartedly focused on the couple when suddenly I recognized one of them. "Ginny Weasley," I hissed. I suddenly expected Draco but then I realized the boy would probably have a heart attack if he ever did something so emotionally involving as holding hands. When I recognized the second person, I accidentally shouted, "Harry!"

Oops. They heard me.

"I mean Potter . . ." I trailed as they turned.

"Xandra!" Harry said, obvious caught off guard but walking over all the same. "How was practice?"

"A bloody nightmare," I said eyeing Weasley. "Thank you for the broom." I handed it too him.

"Pleasure–what did you do to it?" he exclaimed.

"I didn't die."

He smiled at me. "When's your next practice?"

"Tomorrow night. Pritchard was nearly killed."

"Do you have time to meet?"

"That would be great," I said, lacking the enthusiasm my wordchoice implied. I noticed Weasley shifting uncomfortably under my discrete stare. I smirked at her before leaving the pair. I heard her whispering something to him as I left.

* * *

When I was descending the stairs to the dungeons, I stopped abruptly, fully realized what I had witnessed. "Is this a love triangle?" I thought outloud. "Or is Weasley two-timing the famous Harry Potter . . .again?"

* * *

Author's Note: Another chapter in the bank. As always I hope it was enjoyable. Will our heroine ever fit back in to the slytherin circle or will he find another social niche? Why is Draco a prick? Is Harry secretly daft? How does he feel to Xan? Questions, questions, questions to answer. Love to hear from all you darling readers! Cheers. 


	20. The Illogic of Balance

Disclaimer : The usual.

Author's Note: Hey there everybody, I have been officially living in France for two months now and wow. It's an adventure and a challenge but the best of all experiences. However, I couldn't leave this story unfinished so here I am working on another chapter. It's been a while, so please bear with me. Sorry for any grammatical and/or spelling errors, I am working on a foreign keyboard.

Chapter Four: The Illogic of Balance

"Better," Harry said catching the quaffle, yet again. "Remember, you can't hesitate. Just throw."

"Too many bloody things to think about," I grumbled, spitting out into the air, allowing my saliva to fall meters to the ground. The Slytherins had practice suspended for a week while the whole Pritchard thing. It was good for me because I actually had a chance to learn the ruddy sport. However at the moment I wasn't any more enthusiastic to be playing. "Don't you have your own team to be the captain of?"

"We don't practice today," Harry replied as he got another one of my throws.

I rolled my eyes, "Homework then?"

"Easy class load."

"Shagging someone?"

"Don't have a girlfriend."

"Since when was that a necessary adjective?"

"Now let's work on passing," he spoke quickly through his pending blush. I can get him on the sex jokes. Always.

Who would have though I would be here? I spend hours every day with Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy shuns and degrades me. Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas are the best conversationalists I have. I am Alexandra Marlow CEO of Malfoy Enterprises. Pathetic.

But now that I am used to this sad pathetic existence, it is easier—if that's the word.

"So has Malfoy told you whether or not you on first string yet?"

"No," I snorted just after I chucked the red ball. "Why would he? Wanker."

"Good point."

"So . . . are you dating Ginny Weasley?" I have asked this question in one form or another since last week. This is the most frank I have phrased it because he evades every other style far too easily.

"Why do you ask?"

I paused when I caught the ball. This wasn't right. He was never this smooth. I expected a 'what' or a 'huh' or a blush but not a 'why'. Bollucks and I didn't have an answer on hand.

"Just, uh, wondering." Fuck, I sound like I have a crush on him!

He sighed, as though the subject tired him. "It's complicated."

"My life is bloody complicated—that's no excuse, Potter."

"Just drop it."

I swear we have had this conversation before.

Anyway, so we did some more drills that made me want to die and Harry offered some more quidditch guru advice that made me want to blow chunks. Then, be as it may, guess who arrived on the scene! Draco Malfoy.

"Marlow get down here!" I feel like a dog when he screams like that.

"What?"I called, ever so slowly descending. I was so proud of myself for exercising tolerance of his prick-dom.

"You are going to take Pritchard's position until he can play again."

"Goody," I said, wiggling my fingers at him. I checked my watch. Bloody hell, I have paperwork to do. Because of this ruddy sport I created a pile of work the size of the Great Pyramids. Oh and a meeting this evening. Fabulous just fabulous. You know come to think of it, I was feeling a bit more optimistic about my life before I came back to this fucking school. Want a cigarette. I really really want a cigarette. Oh hell, Malfoy blabbering about something.

"--now, Marlow!"

"What?" I blinked down at him.

"I want laps, Marlow, now!" Draco shouted.

Harry looked at me, as though asking whether or not he could tell the prick to sod off. I didn't have the energy for this. "I have work, Draco," I said as I sailed down to the ground. I picked up my broom and began walking.

"We've been over this Marlow, you don't have any work but this team."

"Sod off, Malfoy!" that was Harry.

"Get in the air, Marlow!"

"You aren't listening, Draco," I said as I continued walking. "I have to work." I slammed the door behind me and flew down the corridor. How lame is that? I have to work. It is not an excuse but an obligation. It is. . . I needa bath anda cigarette. No, make that a pack of cigarettes.

I entered the common room and everyone looked up. I must have had a burning ball of frustration around me. I ran up to my dorm to get out my quidditch clothes and get my work. I had just zipped up my jacket when I heard my name bellowed up the stairs. "Marlow! Marlow, we aren't finished!"

"Sodding hell!" I grabbed my stack of papers and slammed my door. "What do you want?" I shouted. But he wasn't in the corridor. I walked down into the common room and there he was. Arms folded across his chest and a stern expression as though I was a disobedient child.

"Marlow, you are now on first string are you not?" his voice was painfully calm and well-paced.

"I do believe that is what you told me earlier." I am a CEO, two can play at this game.

"Then do enlighten me Marlow as to why you disobey your capitain and refuse to practice?"

"It is quite simple, Draco. I have work."

All at once, in the passing of a second, his calmness melted away into pure fury. "Work? Work!" he smacked my papers and sent them scattered around the common room, a place that was deathly silent. "You aren't a bloody CEO here! Marlow, you're--" he stopped when he saw a particularly fat envelope lying on the ground. One with a return address of Lucius Malfoy. The young Malfoy sneered the meanest sneer I have ever, ever seen. With steps like a giant he stomped towards the fire and hurled the envelope to its fiery demise.

"Rot in hell, Marlow," he snarled. Then he left. The bastard left me standing there in the common room, mouth ajar, wondering what the fuck was going on.

I jerked when someone tapped my hip. Blaise was handing something up to me. A cigarette, oh god he has good timing. I popped it into my lips but it fell right back out into my hand. "What the hell is this, Blaise?" I wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"Let's just say it's a little stronger than what you're used to."

"Ah, the next logical step in your masochism, Blaise; drugs. I suppose I did see it coming."

"Things have changed."

"So I've noticed."

"I'm as fucked up as you like to think I am."

I gave him a sidelong glance. In truth he wasn't a boy with pale skin, sunken cheeks, crusty lips, greasy hair, raggety clothes or trembling fingers that my narrative might imply. He was a tan, smooth skinned, well-groomed young man with a way about him like he was always just about to take a photo.

"But you on the other hand, are."

"Thanks, Blaise," I said sarcastically, shoving the blunt into my pocket, next to my cigarettes. I was on a mission. A mission to kick Draco's arse.

Guess where I found the little prick? The spot by the lake where he had first bloodied Malcolm's nose. Of course, I didn't know this at the time. I have had some time to reprocess all of these events. The bloke was standing and looking out at the lake. Fucking sap.

"Oi, Draco!" I shouted. He turned. "That is your bloody problem?"

"My problem? Hah, that's a laugh, _Alexandra_," he never uses my proper name. Ever.

"Yes, you're problem!" my voice was rising and rising. "You have treated me like shit since the second I got on that sodding train! We have been mates for ten years, Draco—more than mates! We were together in that hell hole for two weeks and –"

"And you betrayed me!" he screamed. I mean his voice hit a high note. The one boys only get two when they have either been kicked in the balls or reached a peak of honesty. "You're a bloody traitor!"

I got up right close to him, retaining my composure and said, "If I'm a traitor that what does that make you?"

Then he slapped me.

I stumbled all the way back into the nearby tree, holding my cheek which was flaming in my hand. Draco's eyes were wide and his hand was still hanging on the otherside of his body. All I remember hearing was our breathing, each of us mutually shocked at ourselves and one another. Like many times before in my life, time slowed.

But when time slows, it undoubtedly must speed up again. In this instance, I charged and Malfoy and hit him across the nose. It was one of those nice, clean sounds. Blood poured down his robes like a broken levee. He curled over and, as if I hadn't had enough, I shoved him into the lake.

Now, being the queen of good timing, you would think that I would have stormed of, found Harry, finished my work or what have you . . . but I didn't. I stood and watched. When Draco started indeed drowning in the lake (it wasn't exactly warm), I jumped in and helped him out. I to this day do not know where my mind was.

I was soaking wet, freezing, laying on the grass besides a boy even more soaking wet and freezing than I. Draco gasped for air and clawed at the grass. We were really close.

"X-Xandra," he choked out, shivering like a lamb in winter. I turned to him. The slytherin prince put his ice cold hand on mine. He only hand to move mere centimetres. I wondered how long he hand been in that water—my sense of time isn't exactly reliable these days.

"W-what?" Great now I am shivering cold.

"We w-were the sly-ytherin fo-our. You lef-t me," his voice quivered and he dropped his head onto the ground. Cold water can do that to you. I think. Oh bloody hell, I didn't know was going on with him. Something was seriously wrong with our little prince. But I am sure of one thing, and that is that he is bloody heavy when wet.

I tried to work after I passed Draco off to Pansy and I changed clothes. However, I found myself staring at a two letters I had already read. The rest of my work, the pyramids, were ash above the castle right about then.

So what was there to do? Hah, what there always is to do. I lit up the blunt Blaise had given me and started to get ready for my meeting.

* * *

Hate, hate my life! It is bloody midnight and I just went through perhaps the worst meeting of my life. It had nothing to do with the material—I could follow along just fine. It had nothing to do with the people—usual suspects. It had to do with me. It is one of those problems you can never put your finger on until an irrelevant time somewhere in the future. 

God, I need to get more marijuana. I can completely understand Blaise's perspective. It isn't the high that I crave, that was overrated and frankly at this point uneffective, but it was just the bang that it put on my senses. However, for the sake of _quidditch_ I'll save it for special occasions and stick to cigarettes—something that in that past 24 hours have fallen back into favour.

"Xandra?"

I nearly fell over. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Harry," wonderboy stepped into the light.

"What are you doing creepy around in the bloody shadows?" I snapped.

"I'm a prefect. I have rounds."

"Since when?"

"Since Dean couldn't take my place tonight."

"Right. Well, goodnight." I took about two steps before his voice stopped me.

"I'll walk you," he said. "Hermione is making rounds too. I don't want you getting suspended from the team." He plucked my cigarette from my lips as he said this.

"Whatever you want," I said with a tired shrug. We walked in silence and I could feel the awkward glances he sent me.

"So did it work out alright with Malfoy?"

"He slapped me and I shoved him into a lake." That sounds so much better than the emotion-infused truth.

"What!"

I gave him a superficial smirk.

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy as usual."

He gave me a look of disbelief but that was to be expected. We made the turn that would lead us to the dungeons. "I don't understand what makes that arse tick."

A crash stopped us in our tracks. Harry instantly had is wand at the ready and was surveying the area. The source of the noise was easy to spot. A suit of armour had fallen to the ground. The thing that wasn't so easy to comprehend was the rustling behind the long drape that obviously caused it.

Harry approached the rustling cautiously and used his wand to pull back the drape.

I choked on my saliva at the sight.

Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were rounding the bases and there was a considerable amount of nudity. Harry was frozen completely frozen. It was I that had to cough to get their attention.

The slytherin prince stopped his activities and the Weasley girl opened her eyes. She looked bloody mortified while Draco on the otherhand looked proud to be our discovery. "Do you mind, Potter?"

"Harry," Weasleyette gasped.

"Move along, Marlow, move along," Draco turned back to his piece of meat like some sort of beast. Weasley just kept staring at us until I dropped the drape for Harry just didn't know what to do with himself.

I still don't know how Draco managed to be who he was or do the many things he did those nights during our school days, especially when one considers the ghosts, teachers and not to mention Filch prowling the halls. But it was that night that stayed up all night with Harry Potter doing nothing in particular. Just being. Just trying to figure out how the universe could ever balance itself out.

Author's Note: Oh wow I wrote this chapter fast! Well, I hope everyone enjoyed it. I want to thank all my darling readers who keep me going on this fic. Hugs and until next time.


	21. Where All the Time Goes

Disclaimer: I only own the heroine.

Chapter 5: Where All the Time Goes

"Faster Marlow! Do you want that bloody quaffle? Faster!" Draco barked orders over the slytherin practice like the tyrant captain he enjoyed being. I don't remember anything quite as exhilarating as going faster than any bird on that borrowed broomstick. Why I still hadn't gotten my own top of the line model with my millions is a mystery. I have been rather lazy in all other aspects of my life, maybe it has something to do with that.

I punched Moon in the side and took the quaffle into my possession. Who knew I could be so violent? I have pondered this and discovered that my corporate villain can easily manifest into physical viciousness.

Racing towards the goal, the actual point or context of my actions was lost. That is why when a bludger hit my broom and I hit the ground, I felt pure defeat.

"Cappar, aim better!" Draco shouted. I was surprised. This was the first time I hadn't had a rain of curses fall upon me. This time I had actually failed at something too. Curious, so very curious.

"Marlow, hurry up!" Ah there we go.

* * *

"Can you believe Oliver Wood made it to the pros?" Dean said while cleaning of his broom. The Gryffindors and a Slytherin were lounging on some forgotten steps leading outside from the castle.

Neville opened his mouth to respond but I beat him to it. "He's a stiff prick. Won't last too, long if you ask me."

"It doesn't matter if we ask you or not," Seamus said, preoccupied with throwing a quaffle up into the air, only to catch it again. "You never shut up."

I tapped some ash from my cigarette down the back of his shirt. "Ai!" he yelped. "Bloody hell!" he glared at me. "Stupid slytherin," he chucked the quaffle at my from close range.

Catching it with ease, I smirked with pleasure. "Bloody Irishman." I threw it back at him, hitting the boy in the face. He cursed.

"Oh don't you think you are just so bloody clever." Why do I hang around with people like this? Gryffindors, boys, closed-minded fuckwits, it is really a mystery why the entertain me.

"Why yes, I am clever," I blew smoke smugly into the air. "Just noticing?"

"I challenge you to a duel!" Seamus grabbed his broom—the equivalent of a sword.

"Why should I accept your offer?" I didn't show any signs of changing my relaxed position.

"Are you a coward?"

Next thing you know, I was up in the air with Longbottom, preparing to go against Thomas and Finnegan. "Alright," Thomas said, sitting up straight as a self-proclaimed referee. "First team to let's say… 10 goals. Rules are—"

"Nonexistent," I concluded. "It's quidditch. Now throw that damn ball." Dean sneered then tossed the ball up into the air.

Seamus was the first to grab it. He has had more experience on a broom than I. Frankly these teams were terribly unfair. I was surprised Neville didn't fall off his broom and here I am, chain smoking nervous wreck versus, well more average people. I chased down Seamus and shoved him just before he threw the quaffle to an unguarded goal (made of two or three tree branches).

With the quaffle now in my possession, I zoomed towards the target. I saw Dean bombing towards me just in time to chuck the ball to Longbottom. He caught it! Bloody miracle. Then Seamus tackled him.

"Fuck," I hung my head.

"How about a wager, Marlow?" Dean flew up beside me with a cocky little smirk.

"What type of wager?" My old love for meaningless schoolboy wagers was back in bloom.

"Win gets a go at the other team with any spell they want."

"That could be dangerous, Mr. Thomas," I said with a silky tone.

"Are you a coward?" there it was again! I snatched the quaffle and made for the goal. Easy goal.

"I believe that is one for our team," I flew past him with a cocky smirk.

So the battle raged on. Neville made considerable blunders, I wheezed, Thomas played well and Seamus was tackled by yours truly. In the end, because Longbottom can't play defense for chocolate frogs, we lost 6-10.

Dean and Seamus high-fived and looked all smug while they thought of what spell they could do to us. I wasn't too worried, though I was pissed that we lost. Afterall, these aren't exactly real risk takers we have on our hands here.

"Close your eyes," they said together, grinning maliciously. Neville complied easily—these were his dormmates after all, but I was more skeptical. "Turn around now, Marlow." I rolled my eyes and slowly turned.

Suddenly, I felt the spell hit my back. I sucked in a breathe, waiting for pain, puke or something else. But there was nothing. I turned, soon followed by Neville, prepared to call the two boys serious wankers. However, they were too busy falling over themselves with laughter.

"What is so bloody funny?" I looked at Neville when I received no answer. The clutz looked as though he was stifling a laugh. "You bloody wankers," I growled out of frustration and flew up to a particularly clear window.

I screamed bloody murder.

* * *

You know, one would think I am lucky to have hair after all the weird shit that happens to it. Neon red and back again was murder. Now from black to brown, frizzy and hideous. I was working on a cigarette, musing over my situation when Blaise arrived in the common room.

"What in hell's name did you do to your hair!"

"I lost a friendly match of quidditch," I said flatly.

"That's not friendly, mate that's a bloody crime."

"Oh shut up," I snarled, chucking a pillow at him.

Blaise caught it and grinned. "Your aim is getting better."

"Shut your mouth, you bloody wanton."

My slytherin friend (if you want to use that noun) sat down beside me and lit up one of his obscene cigarette substitutes (the harder substance). I glanced over at him, taking in his features. He looked nearly sedated. He was in another universe and continuing to find ways to get in deeper. He had an air about him of defeat.

"You're so fucking pathetic."

"Excuse me?" he said lazily turning to me. He didn't sound the least bit shocked.

"You are a sorry excuse for a human, Blaise. Go slit your wrists and save us all the trouble of watching your slow dragging existence."

That got his attention. He jerked upright and looked at me in a mix of surprise and anger. "Watch where you step, Marlow."

"Oh shut up you git," I snapped, smacking the blunt from his hand. "To you my name very well isn't Marlow. This well of self-pity you have dug for yourself is disgusting and will come to an end now."

"Who are you to act like my mother," he sputtered with reddening cheeks. It was obvious he didn't know what to make of this situation. Had I been rational, or really thinking, I would have been in the same position. However, I wasn't rational at the time, I was being uncharacteristically honest and responsible.

"Who are you to act like a self-destructive git?"

"You don't know what you're saying," he took a quite puff of his drug.

I smacked it out of his mouth. "Oh yes I bloody do." I grabbed his chin roughly and forced him to look at me. "Look at me Blaise Zabini." When he still held his eyes adverted I tightened my grip. "Now!" that brought the eye contact I wanted.

We stayed in that bruising position for god-knows-how-long then I started to talk without even thinking about what I was saying. "What's your name?"

"Blaise Zabini," the words barely climbed out of his throat.

"Are you scared?" no response..

"What you fear?" no response.

"Are you happy like this?" It was there. It was right there that the real Blaise broke through. Had I been thinking I would have better prepared for what was to come, but we already know thoughts were a thing of the past. This applied for the both of us. Why else would Blaise have thrown himself at me so hard that I broke a vase when hit the coffee table? While else would we have bruised our lips together in an action that lacked emotions associated with its nature but contained all the important elements at the same time?

We clawed at eachother. We shoved eachother. We rolled, we kissed, we bit, we bled. This trance of utter animalistic confession was finally broken when the back of my head somehow came down on the edge of the stairs. I yelped and the two of us fell still. I could feel the sticky goo running down my neck. Blaise, who was on top of me, reached his slender fingers around to touch it. Upon feeling that I was very much alive, and he was too by association, he collapsed, silently sobbing into my chest.

It was roughly around this time that my sense of logic caught up with me and oh what a blow. I was at one instant contemplating that perhaps Blaise and I had engaged in sexual intercourse (to say it scientifically doesn't make me hurl) because there was just no other way this situation could have come around.

I strained my neck and looked over Blaise's seemingly ginormous trembling form. The common room was a mess. Really. Vases were shattered, furniture tosses, disheveled carpet, plants on the ground. I really was becoming a lunatic.

"Come on," I said in a more compassionate voice than I had intended. When he didn't respond I repeated myself and nudged him. He rolled off of me like a ragdoll. Blaise's cheeks were tearstained and he showed now signs of stopping the waterworks. So to save my friend from disgrace and the public ridicule of an empty room, I hauled him up to my dorm.

Blaise slept in my bed that night. I was in it for a while but eventually took the floor. Sure it was uncomfortable and sure, he soaked my shirt with his tears while I just stroked his hair, and sure I was in a very awkward positional emotionally and certainly in no place to be handing out advice but at least . . . he wasn't alone anymore and he knew that.

* * *

My face has almost fallen into my porridge about oh, five times. I am so bloody tired. I've had about ten hours of sleep this entire week. Not only do the teachers expect me to write these worthless essays (that certainly do not help your right a merger), not only am I expected to do that mountain of work sent to me from the office, not only am I supposed to work my bloody arse off for some ruddy sport, I am now also responsible for the emotional restabilization of Blaise Zabini, oh and I have to give to each of these activities. You think when you grow up and become the big bad boss you are going to be able to control everything that comes through your net of duties. Oh, that's a knee-slapper right there.

Kill me. Someone pull avada kavera right now. Oh god, gotta go to potions.

I threw out all of Blaise's marijuana. I tossed his room and threw out all his destructive material accumulated over seven months time. It looks like he lives in an abbey now but that is better than what there was before. You know, back at the beginning of the year, I would have never thought of doing something like this. I would find the idea of going out of my way for someone preposterous, no matter who that person was. Fuck and look at me now. I am like mother Teresa. Except I think she kept her wits about her more often than I do. I feel like such a flaming idiot nowadays.

"Wake up, Marlow," Theo snapped, crunching my toes.

"Ow!" I jumped slightly.

"You almost fell into the bloody potion," Draco scolded. "Idiot." I elbowed him in reply.

Snape had the brilliant idea of forming groups and I dunno _where_ he got the idea but somehow decided to put us together. It wasn't as awful as I was anticipating. This was probably because I was two steps from dead and not all there.

"Marlow, we aren't your bloody slaves," Draco snapped at me, shoving some ingredients into my hands. "Now do your own bloody work!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea, mate," Theo said a little too late. I had already dumped the jar and royally fucked the potion.

Snape just rubbed his temples and turned to torture some hufflepuffs.

"Dumbass," Draco snarled.

It wasn't until I was rested that I realized how normal that situation had been. It's significance was wasted at the moment.

* * *

One night, maybe a week later, I was stood up by Mr. Harry Potter. Our habitual quidditch sessions were engrained into my schedule; they were so mundane that my blood boiled when this routine had been disrupted. My ears were turning purple as I stormed off the pitch dressed like a fucking fruit in men's quidditch gear.

Thanks to a couple roaming second years, I found wonderboy's location easily. He was seething in the Gryffindor locker rooms. However, I was more concerned with my own anger, rather than his evident reason for forgetting me. "Forget something, Potter?" I snarled in the doorway with my arms folded across my chest. He didn't respond and I nearly burst a blood vessel. "Hey wonderboy, I'm talking to you!" still no response. I marched over to him and grabbed his shoulder.

Before I could get a word out he smacked my hand away. "Can't you take a bloody hint!"

"You prick!" I shoved him against the lockers. No one talks to me like that. In hindsight, I was an _extremely_ self-centered teenager but then again, show me someone who wasn't at that age.

Harry once again smacked my hands away from him and straightened himself up in a manner that only made his commotion worse. "You're all the bloody same," he snapped. "I bet you pointed her out didn't you! Told him every little detail for how he could rip my heart out! Misery loves company doesn't it."

"What the fuck are you talking, you self-absorbed prick?"

"I was the chosen one," he said, his tone of voice changing in a manner that reflected change of target. "I was the boy who lived and evidently because of it I am too weak of a male to keep away Draco Malfoy's claws."

I snorted, "You make him sound like an evil lord or something."

"He got into her pants when it took me weeks, months of dating and compliments and, and—I was her childhood crush for the sake of merlin! He rips her away from all that like she's just something he can buy with his sodding family fortune!"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Maybe she is." His distress had calmed my own flusteredness.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh am I?" I cocked an eyebrow. "Enlighten me, wonderboy."

"I might as well become a fucking monk," he shouted. "I'm too sensitive she says. Well, I think it's a goddamn miracle that after all the shit I've been through I not a bloody looney. I'm not passionate enough! I'm not—" I tuned out after that. It's alright to analyze yourself but this was ridiculous.

"Stop bloody lying to yourself."

"No!" he screamed like a spoiled child. "You don't understand."

"Oh yes I do," I said pushing his back up against the lockers. "You're a soddling little Gryffindork with mudblood friends and one big sob story that no one gives a shit about now that the wizarding world has used you up like the fairy you are."

"Watch your mouth," he snarled. Has this happened before or is it just me?

"You're such a pansy, Potter," I said with a demeaning flip of my hair. "I bet you are intimidated by the likes of girls; even me in men's quidditch gear. Actually, I just saw one of your dorm mates today, Finnegan. Looked like quidditch had done him good, more than I can say for you," I put my face close to his once again to add intensity to my words. "Harry, can you do anything at all."

He exploded. I am not kidding, the thought that maybe I had overdone it occurred to me just as I was slammed up against the lockers, on the opposite side of the room. Have you ever been torn apart? Have you ever had so much happen to you at one time that you are rendered an object? It was like I was watching it all in third person. My rationality was somewhere else, my ability to move was long gone, my words were on vacation and all I could do was hold my eyes open and hope it wouldn't hurt.

Good boys often surprise you. I am sure you are familiar with the time I first recognized Harry Potter as a sexual being but this was something completely different. I was out of control, for the first time in any of my sexual experiences had I no control over the situation. This was right up there on the list of Most Scariest Moments of My Life. Never mind that it was Harry Potter, never mind that I had initiated it with a simple principal to prove, I was being dominated in the worst way.

Then, just as I had closed my eyes and prepared for the worst of it (the best in all other circumstances), it all stopped. I thought time had stopped it was that still. The courage found me somehow and I turned my head to look up at Harry.

He was staring at me as though I was a dead and bleeding corpse. "Oh merlin," he chocked out before rolling over and burying his face in his hands. "Dear god."

It took me a couple of moments before I could begin to get myself together. The sound of Harry's breathing filled the room as I inspected the damage done. It was impressive. This of course, is said with my current perspective. At the moment I was pleasantly numb. When I was as together as I was going to be, I leaned back against the lockers and basked in my numbness.

"So, no quidditch tonight then," I broke the silence an eternity later.

"You must hate me."

"Not yet, but I doubt I will."

"How can you be so calm after I nearly—"

"The universe won't permit the two of us from being in hysterics at the same time."

"I am in shock, I am not a sissy."

"No, most certainly not," my laugh was full of holes and a bit painful to the ears right at that moment.

"Oh god," he repeated, rubbing his eyes and face as though he could rub out the reality of the situation. "Why did you do that, Xandra? How could you have just sat there and taken it? God, what if I hadn't stopped, what if . . ."

I somewhere found a cigarette and lit up. "Look don't be so hard on yourself, I provoked you. Technically I was asking for it."

"No one asks for that," he replied grimly.

I regarded him for a moment before I asked with my own bit of grimness, "Could you please cheer up a bit?" He gave me a look like I was crazy. I nudged his cheek with my free hand. "Look on the bright side, you aren't a limp-dick pansy." He gave a feeble laugh and made an effort to stop sulking.

"Draco really got to you, huh?" I searched for a cigarette to give him.

"I guess so," Harry said, accepting the cigarette without enthusiasm.

"He does it to build up his own self-esteem," I analyzed outloud.

"Pretty low, if you ask me."

"It's like smoking. If you try it once and don't like it, you never do it again. If you try it once and really do like it, well there is no real reason to stop."

"Very philosophical."

"I have a lot of time." I stopped for a moment and decided to change that, "Actually, I lied. I really have no time. I don't know where I think about these things. I have no idea where the time goes."

He chuckled and brushed some hairs out of my face. "Sorry about forgetting the quidditch."

"Psh, trivial matter, don't give it a second thought."

"You were mighty pissed for a trivial matter."

"Lost in the moment," this subject was making me uncomfortable.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow night then," he looked at me with a sentimental greatfulness that made me shiver.

"As you like," I replied, shifting uncomfortably.

Suddenly the look in his eyes died and he said flatly, "What happened to your hair?"

* * *

Author's Note: Ah another chapter up for you darling readers. Hope it didn't seem too random, I felt a bit disoriented while writing it. To be perfectly honest I find myself approaching a writer's block so cross your fingers for me. I really appreciate feedback, as always. Until the next installment! 


	22. Un Renaissance Pour Quatre

Disclaimer: I only own the heroine

Chapter Six: Un Renaissance Pour Quatre

I have never noticed it before but I really enjoy having someone's fingers in my hair. Oh god, this is a sign of something grave when I stop thinking about what I am saying. First of all, I shouldn't use the word 'notice' because I have intentionally never let anyone's hands near my head or hair. Second of all, this isn't a new sexual fetish (yet). Blaise has been trying for about an hour now to set my hair straight but alas, he isn't the brightest candle in the corridor and well, now his hands are stuck in my hair. As in, they won't come out. So while trying to use a wand with his mouth (what is with my sexual innuendos today!), he has ended up somewhere between clawing and massaging my scalp.

"Holy fuck!" Draco dropped his books upon seeing our awkward position.

"Draco, what's the hold –" Theo, who was just behind him, just barely missed smashing into the blonde. When he got a gander at Blaise and I, the words out of his mouth were almost too characteristic. "Disgusting!"

Blaise spat out his wand and glared at them while I calmly worked on my cigarette. "Hey you tossers, how about some help?"

"I don't do orgies with ugly people," Theo scoffed.

"What in the bloody hell did you do to your hair!" Draco exclaimed. Ooh, he was perky today.

"Long story," I said calmly, even though it wasn't.

"You look like the mudblood," Draco kicked his books to the side, rolled up his sleeves and searched for his wand. "No, no this certainly won't do."

Theo however was responding much in the same way Seamus and Dean did. He was laughing his ass off, that wanker. "Fuck off," I said sneered at him.

All of a sudden, Draco had smacked my cigarette from my mouth. "If I remember correctly, there is practice tonight."

"Yes father," I said sarcastically.

"I will not have my team . . ." he launched into his tyrant captain speech. Once that was finished it became a group effort to correct my hair. Ugh, my life.

* * *

"Malfoy!" Bradley and his ravenclaw know-it-all cronies were at the bottom of the pitch with steam practically rising above them.

"You know Bradley," Draco said flying towards them only to hover above them. "Some teams like to practice before a big game but to each his own," he smirked with a particular nastiness at a girl whose name escapes me but was widely know for having many sexual escapades with slytherin boys.

"You know we had the pitch for tonight," the captain was a looker but oh so straight-laced. Think Cedric Diggory but a tad smarter and not as keen on Asians.

"Hm, that's odd because it seems that we have been here for oh," he checked his nonexistent watch, "a good deal longer than you."

"How about sharing the pitch," some fourth year beater shouted, a reconciliation for not being in a position to call Draco a prick.

"I have players to train, so no." Friday was Halloween so Thursday was the last day either team had to practice. Leave it to Draco to get us the pitch Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

"And another thing, Malfoy," Bradley said, his voice dripping with forced civility. "When were you planning on telling me about your replacement for Pritchard?"

"Excuse me?" Draco replied dully. It was just at that moment that I zoomed overhead carrying the quaffle.

"Marlow, that's who I'm talking about," the ravenclaw heartthrob did seem to be getting a bit flustered. "You are supposed to give me notice about your roster a week in advance not two days before!"

"Oh," he turned slowly and hollered, "Marlow!"

"Yes?" I chucked the quaffle and flew over.

"Bradley, Marlow; Marlow, Bradley. He is who we will be playing against tomorrow morning."

"I know."

"Well," Draco faked shock. "It seems that this is redundant so I don't know what you are complaining about, Bradley."

"Listen," he said, rising up to his full height, even though he was a good meter or two below us. "I am not letting you play her."

"Now you have really lost it," Draco scoffed. "Too much studying in my opinion."

"I am not going to let you rig another match! Whatever you have up your sleeve Malfoy, buying new equipment last minute, having corporate assassins show up or what have you, I won't allow you to play her."

"Really, like I would waste my hard earned money killing someone like you," I snorted.

"You, shut up," Bradley snapped. It actually wasn't as bad as we played it out to be. His response was a perfectly just reply to the degrading position Draco had put him in and in front of his teammates at that! But ah, never underestimate a slytherin's ability to exaggerate.

Theo whom had been hovering nearby zoomed over faster than you can snap your fingers. "Did you just tell her to shut up?"

"Seems we have a bleeding sexist on our hands here," Avery said. "'ey Moon, what do you think of that?"

"Why don't they put their money where their mouth is?" she snarled.

Tarquin, Cappar, MacDougal and other players on the pitch contributed their own comments. Eventually the Ravenclaws stalked off and practice continued as usual. Except Draco held me behind.

"I want you to hurt Bradley got it?"

Once upon a time I would have asked why or even expressed that I don't take orders from him but in this day and age of broomsticks and pointless competition, I said, "How badly?"

"Just rough him up a bit, to make up for your lack of skill."

"Oh sod off, you prick."

* * *

All Hallows Eve had arrived at Hogwarts. This was a night where children would enjoy a feast, play pranks on one another, couples would snog and do kinky things in bed and Xan Marlow would do work.

Yes the time had come to tackle that white castle. Considering I have a meeting tomorrow right after the ruddy match, I thought it might be a good idea.

Oh god, you know what happened early tonight? Justin said hello to me. Oh it was so bloody painful. I am not even kidding. I was sitting at the slytherin table next to the usual suspects and he was just walking by. Why did he have to do it? I choked on my pumpkin juice and nearly had a stroke. I don't understand it; why he did it or why it ripped my heart out. All I know is it provoked me to hightail it back to my papers all the quicker.

However I found no haven in the common room. It was Halloween afterall. I ended up leaving the party, even though part of me wished to get pissed like everyone else. Now I find myself on the cold floor of some corridor far away from the dungeons, gnawing on the tip of my quill and sweating over decisions.

"Hey, what are you doing here all alone?"

I looked up and mentally groaned. "Of all people to randomly pass me in this deserted hall, it's you, Harry."

"Actually this is a shortcut to Gryffindor tower."

"Ooh, even better, boy am I lucky today or what?" Out of the corner of my eye I could see his hands shoved in his pockets and his body rocking nervously.

"Um, can I sit with you?"

"Sure," I replied without looking up from the report. "Just move October's Budget Report."

He didn't move for a few moments. "Um, which folder is that?" I somehow managed not to snort, and moved the red folder and Shipment Tracking for the Month of October aside as well.

Collapsing down beside me, he laid his wrists over his knees. I expected him to say something but he just watched me write down potential ideas for how we could impress Japanese Investors at the LACNFY (London Financial Conference for the New Financial Year). "Am I really so fascinating that you don't need to go to your dorm party?"

"How did you know there was a party tonight?"

"There is always a party. I am missing one."

"I didn't know you liked parties."

"I usually don't only due to lack of opportunity." I gestured to the papers.

"What is all this?" he picked up a folder and flipped through it.

"That is ME's stock chart for this year and a projection for next quarter. This, this is my work."

"I thought you were the CEO."

"And your point?"

"I thought you were just…the boss."

"I am and I work."

He was silent for a moment. "I thought you were just using it as an excuse that day in Diagon Alley."

I chuckled. "Oh, oh no," me escape work? Never.

"Kind of bizarre," he was obviously thinking out loud.

"I swore I've told you this before."

"Well, yeah but it never really you know, manifested until I saw all these papers." He picked up one of my brainstorms. "Merlin."

"What?"

"You have really terrible handwriting for a girl."

I laughed again, "Why Mister Potter I do believe that is sexist."

"No, what I meant to say—I mean," he was sputtering and it was so cute.

"It's alright, relax."

Silence prevailed for a while and I found myself hopping he would say something. He did naturally, but is topic of choice wasn't what I was pining for. "I see you patched things up with Malfoy and company."

"Huh?" at that moment I was totally lost. I looked up from my work for the first time since he had sat down.

"You are back to being mates with him apparently. Personally I don't know how you stomach it, after how bad he treated you."

"Oh," I said quietly thinking to myself. "I really didn't notice."

"What do you mean you didn't notice?" he rolled his eyes. "Look, it doesn't bother me one bit if you want to be friends with him. It's your masochism."

"Oh stop it," I said, putting my papers down harshly.

"I just don't understand how one minute you can hate him but so willingly go back to being one of his cronies and—" his expression changed when he looked at me straight-on. "Hey, your hair got fixed."

I shook my head, "Magnificent attention span as always."

Harry reached out and touched my new soft and sleek black locks. "You know, I'll hex him for you."

"What?" I asked, half-distracted by a paragraph concerning ME's biggest competitor.

"I'll hex Draco for you. How about after the match? The Twins sent me a book with some pretty nasty things I'm dying to try."

"By all means go ahead."

He pulled his hand away, obviously agitated. "How can you do it?"

"What are you talking about?"

Harry snatched the paper out of my hand and shoved it into a completely different folder. "You and Draco, Xandra! First he outcasts you, treats you like dirt, in fact the whole slytherin lot treated you like dirt and when everything becomes peachy you don't bat an eye!"

Oh god . . . he was right. That was hard to digest. I realized in that moment how tuned out I'd been. I was floored. All I could do was pull out a cigarette and think with wide eyes. "Wow, you're right."

Harry just shook his head and got comfortable against the wall. "You amaze me sometimes."

We listened to the sounds coming from the party up in Gryffindor tower. Sounded like a good time actually. Finally we started talking again after what felt like an eternity.

"Are you nervous for the game tomorrow?"

"I haven't actually had too much time to think about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well between this work, schoolwork, my hair and everything, time disappears. Haven't we talked about this before?"

"Yes, we have."  
"Oh." I guess, it's mine turn to pick a topic. "How are the other two legs of the Golden Trio."

Harry snorted at this, "Very happy snogging eachother senseless."

"Jealous? The boy wonder can't get a date?"

"No, I just feel like the third wheel."

"You do know that trio implies three and three is not an even number."

"Oh sod off," he shoved me lightly. "No, but Voldemort basically controlled my life thus far. Now here I am with one more year of school and I feel like I'm floating in limbo."

"You are. What are you planning to do?"

"I was thinking of training to be an auror."

"Why?"

"Something I think I might like."

"I think we've talked about this before too."

"I don't mind repeating myself," he brushed off my comment. "You know what would be exciting though?"

"What?"

"Seeing the world. I mean, it seems like such a shame to just stay in England your whole life. There's so much out there. It's mindblowing."

"That's the nature of it, I suppose."

"Oh don't lie to me and say you don't want to travel."

I shrugged my shoulders and flicked my cigarette to the otherside of the corridor where it burned out. "I travel with my work."

"If I went traveling would you come with me?" the question surprised me.

"I suppose I might. I've never really thought about it."

"Why aren't we a couple, Xandra?"

Whoa! That one came way out from off the pitch. It was as though everything came to a screeching halt. The universe seemed to zoomed in on Wonderboy's very serious expression.

"Excuse me?" I try to keep calm but I have a feeling my voice cracked.

"We've snogged, we've shagged, we've even held hands if I remember correctly, we've had in depth conversations. We've done everything couples do so why aren't we one?"

"That is the stupidest logic I have ever heard," this called for another cigarette, game tomorrow or not.

"Do you want to be a couple?"

I blew smoke harshly. "Did it ever occur to you, Harry that the word 'couple' was just a title that people use so they don't get branded playboys or quick and easy tarts? I mean honestly, it is totally possible to have a worthwhile relationship without using the word couple and getting into all of that Romeo and Juliet nonsense."

"So we do have a relationship?" he raised an eyebrow.

I blanched. He'd caught me with my own words. Damn. I sat up straight and ran a hand through my hair. "Everyone has a relationship with everyone, wonderboy so please don't read things into it."

"Why do you call me wonderboy?"

"Because that is what I have always called you."

"You called me Harry for a while."

"You call me Xandra when everyone else in the world calls me Xan or Marlow."

"Xandra sounds better."

"Wonderboy is more fitting."

"Look," he said, sounding tired and a bit confused at the situation. "Do you want to be a couple? You know, make things easier on ourselves."

"I dare say Harry, this is either a terrible appeal for a shag or you have been thinking way to much. Who says we ever fit the qualifications for escalating into some holy divinity of coupledom or that we really need to in the first place? You really don't think these things through do you?"

"Do you care for me?"

"Like a stomach ache."

"Be serious, would you for a moment?" he gripped my shoulders to make me look at him.

"Look I don't know, Harry," I smacked his hands away. "Did it ever bloody occur to you that I don't articulate my feeling because I don't know how!"

Oh god . . . waaaay too honest.

"Relationships aren't just about gaining a title and maintaining it," I said, focusing now on gathering up my papers.

"Who are you to talk about love and relationships, Xandra?"

"Who are you to contradict me?"

Harry fell silent and proceeded to help me stack papers. "Please don't," I said. "You don't know what order they're in."

"They're numbered."

After recreating my mountainous pile, we divided it in two, each carrying half. He offered to walk me back to the dungeons. "I saw what happened with Justin today."

"Nothing happened."

"He said hello and you spit out your pumpkin juice."

"No, I chocked on it."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Was it another relationship without a title?"

"Yep."

"Do they always end badly?"

"It didn't end badly, that moment was just horrendously awkward to the nature of the past relationship."

"Is our relationship awkward?"

"You tell me."

"It's strange."

I nodded in agreement.

"You know," he said softly. "If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask."

"Will you be at the game tomorrow?"

"Do you want me to be there?"

I smiled at him like a schoolgirl. "I'd like that."

"Then I'll be there. Not worried if your slytherin suitors get jealous?"

I barely was able to smack him and not drop all the papers. "Will Ginny Weasley be able to survive without her little celebrity?"

"Oh no," he said stopping. "My glasses slipped." They were now balancing on the very tip of his nose. "I can't get them, can you?"

"Alright," I said a bit uncertainly. I walked over as close as I could to him though the stack of paper separated us considerably. I slowly removed once hand, shakily balancing the stack. I felt my muscles wobble as I tried to softly push up his glasses. Honestly who wears glasses after defeating the Dark Lord?

Boom! All the papers fell and scattered across the corridor and down the staircase. I held my eyes shut tightly, "Bugger." I heard Harry's light chuckle and the loud thud of all his papers falling to the ground.

My eyes flew open. He had a smile on his face and a shrug hovering just above his shoulders. "Oh no, it looks as if we shall have to spend hours cleaning all this up together."

"That is why we have wands," I said, pulling out the item in question.

He snatched it from me. "Oh no, it appears we can't use our wands. We shall have to clean up the muggle way."

"You are such a child," I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest in displeasure.

"You love it."

"You're cute but don't push it," I said. Though I can't say with a clean conscience that I didn't enjoy spending the larger part of Halloween with the Gryffindor seeker, even if it was manual labor.

* * *

Author's Note: Voila! I am off to Spain in a couple hours so I have to dash. I appreciate all the feedback from my darling readers. Hope you enjoyed yourselves, despite my writing crunch. Until the next installment, cheers. 


	23. Out

Disclaimer : Naturally, I only own my heroine.

Chapter Seven: Out

Games are so much more exhilarating than practices. Really. I find I enjoy this little game much more when I can attempt to knock someone from another house out rather than my own comrades. Oh yes, I am having a blast, except for the fact that I lack skill and have been knocked off my broom.

This muck is so much more degrading in a proper match than practice when only Draco is scolding me. However right now I have slytherins and ravenclaws watching the CEO of ME getting knocked down. This motivated me to get back up and rip the quaffle away from Bradley. I actually scored. It was a miracle. Avery took out two other chasers, that might have done something to help but still. I was quite pleased.

I never got another chance throughout the entire game to stop and think. I didn't think. I just played. Had I thought—like I am doing now, I would have been unnerved by the idioticy of the sport. Zooming around on brooms, sweating like pigs and relying on animal instincts isn't what one should be paid millions of galleons for. Oh well.

Cappar that idiot. Hooch called a foul on him due to the bludger he sent at the Ravenclaw keeper. So what if it knocked him out on purpose? Fair play if you ask me. Nevertheless Draco had to put in Tarquin who couldn't hit a damn thing. Nevertheless, Moon and Zabini preformed this complex play to confuse the other seeker and Draco was able to grab the snitch.

When I touched down, I was filled with a warm feeling I had never experienced before. I was disgusting and gross but it didn't matter. We had won. I smiled and looked up the cheered slytherin stands.

Then I saw Lucius Malfoy.

I quickly looked around. Who else could be surveying?

I saw Harry Potter. He had showed up just like I'd asked. Even though it didn't exactly fill me with the warm feelings I had when I had asked him to come.

When I looked back at Lucius, he was smirking in my general direction and I just wanted to die. I practically ran to the showers where I found Professor Snape waiting for me.

"I am sorry Ms. Marlow but there are more urgent matters than your hygiene."

"I am sure the board wouldn't want to see me sweating all over my papers," there was no way he was going to not let me have a shower.

Then he handed me a financial rag, fresh off the press . . . and I ran to the meeting.

I demanded to leave school, to go to the office and solve this mess but they insisted it was unnecessary. Lucius shared this opinion, who was there with me in person. This means that they are just letting me stew with the knowledge that there is a workers riot underway at my out biggest production site. Kill me, just kill me.

We went over the situation and came to a half-arsed resolution that should put the situation at bay. I went through something like this briefly but it was so much easier when I was living at the office 24/7 and had no life.

* * *

I took my shower and collapsed on the leather sofa in the common room allowing my cigarette to rest, ignored, in the tray. I forget what I was reading and oh was it justified.

The slytherin quidditch captain swooped into the common room and yanked me out into the lonely corridor. "I have something very important I need to talk to you about." He held my shoulders against the stone.

"O-kay," I really wished I had grabbed my cigarette.

"Will you marry me?"

As was my custom, I chocked on my spit and lurched forward as though I had been kicked in the stomach.

"As a friend," he said as though he was clearing up some confusion. "I am asking you as a friend to marry me."

"That is the biggest oxymoron I have heard you use all year."

He groaned and released my shoulders. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"This is typically a big decision forgive my hesitation."

"Marlow," he grabbed his hair in frustration.

"You know if we did get married you would have to use my first name." I accico-ed my cigarettes and got comfortable. "So what brought this on? Does Lucius want you to get married?"

"No." I was mildly surprised. "But it's an excuse to get out of the Manor and have my own life."

"Oh dear lord," I blew smoke upwards. "Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?"

"Are you rejecting me?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I have a workers riot going on as we speak, Draco. I really don't need this."

"I need an answer!"

"Does anyone know you asked me?"

"Not yet."

"Then you don't need an answer." I took a sharp drag. "Did it ever occur to you that marriage means fidelity?"

"No. Should it? Honestly, Marlow, you can't really care about that."

Love and marriage isn't a subject I tend to spend much time on so when it came time to draw up my feelings, I pulled a blank. I quickly started talking to cover up my fault. "Why don't you go ask Pansy?"

"Because she'd actually expect something of the union."

"How do you know I won't, hm? Maybe I want you all to myself so I can fall madly in love with you and have—heaven forbid—children."

"Now you're just being idiotic."

"I'll get back to you on it."

"Alright," he seemed satisfied. "Good game by the way."

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this or else I shall personally castrate you." I said that all with a straight face and a flat tone, if you can believe it.

"Whatever you say."

I rolled my eyes as he strolled off and I returned to the common room.

* * *

Later I was reading some depressing news articles and backtracking through my reports. Searching for the missing link wasn't as easy as I though it was going to be. I had anticipated some glaring error or careless mistake that would unlock this whole mess. No such luck. I am not a really lucky person. But admitting to that would require admitting that I believe in the catch-as-catch-can way of universe luck adheres to.

If I have left you wondering what I do believe in well, that my friends is a more complex question. So let me tide you over with another tidbit of fascinating information: I have switched tobacco products. Yes, now I use the rolly-kind. I put in my own tobacco and filter. It takes longer and looks seedier but I like it's more satisfying.

"Hey," I didn't have to turn around to know it was Harry, he had mastered the art of finding me alone. "You weren't at lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"You lie," he said taking a seat on the step next to me. Half of his arse was teetering on the edge and I wondered if he would fall the meter or so down. "After games I am always famished."

"Blaise got me something from the kitchens."

"You got of the field quite fast, especially since you _asked _me to be there." Oh merlin, the last thing I needed was for him to feel emotionally taxed.

I threw the paper into his lap, "I didn't ask for this." I watched with almost a sick feeling of revenge as his face fell. "That is why I ran off the pitch, Harry, with bloody Lucius Malfoy on my tail."

"How on earth can you deal with this?" he sounded mystified.

I found his tone of voice only irritated me more. "I deal with it because I have to," my words were sharp on the consonants like daggers. He didn't know. I was so popular amongst my workers before I came back to this bloody school. I was on top of my game just two months ago. Now it had all gone to the dogs.

"Hell, this would be your life if you didn't get lucky and live under those muggle stairs for eleven years."

"Me, lucky?" he pulled back. "I had to fight Voldemort if you remember without a bloody clue as to what was going on in the wizarding world!"

"And woopdedoo," I said flatly. "Dear Mister Potter you have survived because you had everyone and their mother on your side. You had a _war_ going for you. One you jumped in on just at the right time. I however have grown up and lived in a warzone. It is like living in a cloud of nicotine and never tasting real air." I gestured to my tobacco, "this here, makes no difference."

"So why don't you leave?" the tone of the conversation wasn't yet friendly but wasn't an argument either. "You are the boss so make someone else boss. You have more galleons than you know what to do with; why do you stay?"

"Because it doesn't work like that," I snarled.

"Are you telling me you wanted this?"

My mind flashed back to a dimly lit office where Snape was first telling me about the hell in which I wanted to descend

"_You have nothing to be loyal to, Miss Marlow. What currently run, is not yours, it is still your father's."_

"_What do you suggest I do?"_

"_First of all, what is it you want?"_

"_I want to be powerful."_

"Yeah, I guess I wanted it."

Harry put his hands on his knees and shook his head in amazement. "I just. . .don't understand you."

He left me alone on those steps with a deep flashback. Actually, multiple flashbacks because I eventually milked every last smoke I could and started picking at my fingers until the skin around the nails bled.

_"Do you feel any loyalty to me, Professor?"_

_"It's apart of the game, Miss Marlow. Whoever has the most information wins."_

_"Commendable but requires follow through."_

_"Professor, will you come with me . . . through all of this?"_

My fingers were now tangling themselves in my hair.

_"They found your letters! Why didn't you burn those bloody letters!"_

_"This law will state that all outfits of enterprise in order to do business in the UK must adhere to certain uniform regulations."_

_"Mr. Weasley you can't be serious! This is complete socialism you are proposing!"_

_"My father babysits you more than he listens to you."_

_"I will always look out for you."_

I shrieked, ripping out locks by the roots. Like the Great Flood memories came back to me. Trivial patches really. Just the briefest of moments, phrases or thoughts that stacked up one upon the other, stating, contradicting, truth, lies and my every changing mentality that I was always right on the edge of everything there ever was.

I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. I wanted Malcolm. I wanted Blaise. I wanted Justin. I wanted Draco. I wanted Harry. I wanted my father. I wanted it all to go back!

_"Go back to where?"_

To this day I do not know who said that. If it was I or my conscience, I can never be sure. I have even pondered if it had been a ghost, haunting me; waiting for the right moment to twirk me.

I was at a deadend. There was no other way of saying it. Everywhere I looked, every which way I stacked my house of cards, I –

_"Wouldn't it be nice to tie up all our loose ends and bury all our skeletons?"

* * *

_

I crept up the stairs to the boys dormitory like some sort of criminal. My eyes darted from left to right, up until the moment where my hand gripped the infamous knob. I pushed on the door just enough to get it to open, fearing a creak or a groan. My eyes peered through the crack and the coat looked clear. I opened the door further until I saw it.

The empty, cold, surprisingly neat bed of the late Malcolm Baddock. The last time I had seen it, I had hidden letters carrying the dark mark beneath it. Oh all that had changed since then. The Dark Mark was a relic, Voldemort had been defeated, deatheaters recoiled into their snobbish culture and life had gone on. But he was still dead. The fact was cold and final, very unfair when life is a continuum for the rest of the universe.

"Didn't your mother tell you that lingering in doorways was rude?" I swung the door all the way open and looked to see who had caught me redhanded. It was Mr. Blaise Zabini.

"I'm creeping around, do you mind?" I was testing his humour because I never knew anymore with him. "Why on earth do you still sleep here?"

"Because I like too," was his short response. The tan boy looked surprisingly normal and if I am lying, I'm dying—I think I saw him reading a book.

"You know the letters are all long gone."

"What makes you think I am looking for those?" I said all to quickly, slamming the door on accident.

"Why else would you be here?"

"Do you not want me here?"

"Be honest with me, please, it saves time." This was the first time since he went into his dazed delirium of self-destruction that I remembered him talking about honesty. The last time the concept came up, it was I who was screaming it at him.

"I felt the urge to come here . . ." I trailed off trying to find the words. I started trying to roll another tobacco blunt but I was trembling too much.

I eventually threw it aside and buried my face into my hands. "I want out, Blaise. I wanted to be the boss of my father's company but I am back where I started."

Blaise watched me for a few moments before getting up and putting his arms around me. I hated being treated like a child but I couldn't bring myself to protest. "You are far from where you started." He stretched to rest his chin on my head and softly rubbed by back reassuringly.

"I want out." I said into his chest, just above his slytherin badge. "I want out." All the resistance had left me and I felt oh so tired.

"Whatever you say, princess," Blaise murmured in an equally sleepy voice.

* * *

Draco has surprisingly boring prep speeches. No really, If you were expecting something to churn the intestines and boil your blood you would be terribly disappointed. He says about two sentences and then goes off on a selfish rant about how Potter is an arse. I forget how selfish he is sometimes. God and to think he asked me to marry him. It's enough to make you heave.

In other news, I haven't spoken to Harry in a good week. I am not even sure why and to avoid thinking about it, I have just buried myself into work which was only frustrated me even more which has lead me to smoke more which has brings me to not feeling very athletically inclined. The circle of life.

The next thing I knew, I was on the pitch and in the air. Moon was vicious as always with the quaffle, but eventually it changed hands and I was chasing down Dean Thomas. Oh, I think I forgot to mention, we were playing Gryffindor. Ironic, isn't it?

God, their chasers were good! Harry must have them running themselves ragged in order to get into this type of condition, merlin. My chest was pounding and I could barely stay out of the way of the bludgers which seemed to live in my direction.

"Marlow, wake up!" Moon shouted at me.

How many hours had we been playing? Sweat, quaffle, goal, bludger, I couldn't keep it all straight. Time was slipping out from under me with every pass, every breath. I heard someone shout my name just before I hit the mud.

Since when was it raining? Oh god, this mud is cold. Not to mention gross. I want to die.

"Slytherin's new chaser, Alexandra Marlow is down, the question is will she get back up, folks?" Oh right, the game. I felt like someone had ripped out my stomach but that built in ambition got me back onto my broom.

I don't know when but for when I think back, I have a very clear image of Harry's face, sweaty and full of concern. Then a smile appears on his face and that is all I got. It's funny because when I think of Draco, there is a similar expression that comes to mind.

The game was never finished because I think about twenty minutes later, I was receiving a pass very high up and got hit by something. This something collided with my ribs and sent me sailing bloody kilometers. I apparently landed in the Forbidden Forest but someone else told me that bit. The last thing I remember was looking down on the pitch with the quaffle, in control and then I died.

Author's Note: Another chapter up for my beloved readers. I know it is a cliff-hanger but if I didn't do that you all wouldn't be engaged! I don't want to give too much away even though I think my writing style is pretty transparent.Oh andall thephrases in italicswere actually from the text; if you backtracka couple of chapters youcan find their exact context:Anyway, tootles, until the next installment!


	24. Subscriptions

Disclaimer: yes I don't own anything you recognize. You caught me.

Author's Note: oh good god, I feel like such a bloody idiot. Being in France, I wasn't able to get my hands on an English copy of HBP until a short while ago. I just read it and am sitting here just kicking myself. I feel like I threw away so much potential. Please guys, I beg your pardon and I hope this little concoction of mine isn't too much of a disappointment.

Chapter Eight: Subscriptions

Sorry, friends if I left you a bit of an edge. I have gotten hasty with words recently. So where was I, oh yes, I died. Actually, to clarify, that was where every rational thought was pointing. I mean, I was thrown clear into the Forbidden Forest, not many people survive that.

However by an act of chance or luck ( I can't decide), my oversized robes got me stuck in a tree. You can imagine my horrid greeting when conscious became me. I was too weak to move, thank Merlin. I forget exactly how long I was cradled in the tree that felt more like a cactus.

I tired like I have never been before in my life. Just as I was deciding that releasing myself to unconsciousness yet again, I heard voices which drew me back to the world of the living.

"Malfoy! You prat, we have to go into the forest to find her! Not fly over it!"

"Potter, shut up! You're only here because you want some glory for youself."

"You have a habit of running out of the Forbidden Forest crying like a child."

"What! You lie, Potter."

"If you are in denial, so be it."

"Go amuse yourself with Weasel, why don't you? Stop wishing you could switch houses like some hufflepuff poof."

"The day I want to be a slytherin is the day I am under imperius."

"Hey! Where do you think you are going?"

"She isn't going to be stuck in some tree, Malfoy. She's going to be hurt on the ground."

"Or dead on the ground, it's bloody dangerous!"

"That's why we need to get there fast!"

Oh dear lord, the two of them came looking for me? Half of me would have rather died. Speaking of which, I think the only thing standing in between me and death from bleeding was my sarcasm. That shall follow me to the grave. Even then I think the small of it will waft up from the dirt.

"Potter, fucking hold on a second! Do you have any idea how hard it is to park a bloody broom in these trees!"

Oh no, they were leaving and I was still stuck in this tree. I didn't know how high up I was. Could I roll myself out? But that would hurt. Fuck this was a tough decision. Knowingly rolling yourself out of something just so you will fall and hopefully make a sound . . . I decided to try screaming.

I ended up with a hiccup.

This, to my horror, left only one option as the bickering of the two rivals started to fade. I just prayed I wouldn't bust a lung or something.

THUNK!

"Oh god, we're gonna die!" were the first words out of Draco's mouth. He spun around, frantically searching for some monster that he just knew was there to kill him.

"Relax, or leave, Malfoy," Harry snarled.

"Then you tell me what that noise was!"

"It was nothing, now come on!"

Above me a branch snapped and just barely got my feet. I must have moaned or something because Draco started to insist. "No, I swear on a Dark Mark that there is–oh bloody fuck, is that a dead animal? Oh fuck, what killed it?"

"What are you ranting about now?" Harry wheeled around in annoyance. When he caught sight of what Draco was referring to, his tone changed drastically. "Is that her?"

"I always knew Marlow would have a closed casket."

Harry smacked Draco out of the way and rushed over. Tentatively taking my shoulders, he rolled me onto my back off my side. I coughed feebly and my previously slack face tightened painfully. I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

"You're doing good, Xandra," he stroked my hair briefly before trying to figure out some way to lift me.

"Come on, Marlow," I heard Draco's voice somewhere nearby. "Don't die now. That would be such a waste. Don't pass out now."

Despite the words of encouragement, I was so tired. I think I broke a rib on the way down. Oh god . . . my last thought before blacking out was something about how ironic it was that the two were so dysfunctional.

* * *

I had a dream that I was a man. It was most traumatizing because I had red hair in this dream. I also got seasick and hid behind a rock in order not to be eaten by a dragon. It was most horrendous. Like Alice in Wonderland but I couldn't find that bloody mushroom to make me grow taller. I was wearing a dress at one point; just in case you find that amusing. That bloody dream left me feeling a little warm and fuzzy and coming to the reality that something wet was dripping on my head was more depressing than horrible. Which did I prefer? Good question.

What is that dripping on my head? Merlin!

By the time I was able to finish that exclamation, I was also able to feel the pain shooting through my body. You know, I didn't curse. Instead I slumped into the pain and tried to focus on the figure above me.

Draco was leaning over me with his brows furrowed in concentration. I thought I saw sweat all over his face but my vision was probably still blurry. He didn't seem to notice that I had come back to consciousness and thus, didn't bother to halt the manhandling of my wounds.

I hissed sharply, getting his attention at the same time. "Marlow, you're alive."

"I can see that," I said in a sarcastic whisper. I just didn't have the moral to speak louder. "Lucky me," another shot of pain hit me. "What'd I miss?"

"Well, the quidditch match ended after that spell hit you. Then I came to look for your corpse and Prince Potty had to come along. Then after I found you, we got attacked by centaurs."

"Where is Harry?"

"What's with the first name?" of all things he could be saying, of all the tones, he had to be a prat when I was two steps from death.

"Where is he?" my voice sounded like a rusted pipe.

"Pleading for his life. I had to carry you here myself."

"What?" I tried to exclaim but fell flat into a whisper once again.

"You might want to think about losing weight, you're really heavy."

"Is he alright? What happened, Draco!" I tried to sit up but he pushed be back down.

"I don't know, alright? Now calm down before you tear something." His tone had changed completely. I was surprised because that was indeed sweat on his brow. The slytherin prince was worried. I felt rather smug and fuzzy. I laid back down on what I concluded was stone.

"Do you have your wand?"

"Why would I have my wand during a quidditch match, Marlow?"

My eyes widened and another blast of pain shot through me. "Draco, you are no mediwizard."

"Pass out again, Marlow, it will be easier for me."

"Self-centered prick."

"You say this when you are indebted to me with your life?"

I was so tired but clung onto consciousness. "Where are your brooms?" I choked out the words slowly.

"Broken. At least mine is . . ." the rest of what he said faded out and I felt myself falling back into the blackness. As the images blurred and my frame of view got smaller, I remember seeing Harry just before I closed my eyes completely.

* * *

The next image I remember was feeling very safe. Well, that isn't much of an image is it? My face was buried into some black Hogwarts robes. The smell was distinct and comforting. I caught a glimpse of the forest beneath me. I wasn't scared, I don't exactly remember why. A thin but genuine smile spread over my lips and I turned my face into the robes once again. I closed my eyes and came to the conclusion that if I never woke up again, a moment like this was the best sendoff I could ask for.

* * *

I rolled over onto my side and stared at a hideous pile. I located flowers, newspapers, heaps of notes, chocolate and a bunch of papers with a pen beside them.

I rolled over onto my otherside and stared at Dumbledore. I was surprised because I didn't have any idea what was going on but I was incredibly docile for some reason. I had more potions in me than Snape's classroom. "So good to see you awake, Miss Marlow."

"What happened?" I croaked. At the time I didn't remember much of anything.

"If you roll back over there is a rather detailed summary in the copies of the Daily Prophet your uncles sent to you."

"Fuck the Daily Prophet, they dictate too much of my life, what happened?"

"An attempt was made on your life, Miss Marlow and you are quite lucky to be alive as we speak. You had massive internal bleeding, several broken ribs and your ankle was in twelve pieces. Had Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter not went after you, the assassin would have been successful. You are quite a lucky girl."

I suddenly had a flash from my flight. The robes. I must have been on a broom and before the question of identity could get out of my mouth, the old man was already on another tangent. "The suspect still has not been apprehended. There are strong feelings that the motive was professional not personal."

"Oh joy," I said sarcastically even though my voice was nearly gone. "Glad to know those hufflepuffs haven't finally snapped."

"Speak of which," Dumbledore continued with a twinkle in his halfmoon glasses. "You have had quite a number of visitors these past three weeks."

"Three weeks!" I turned to him so sharply that I hurt my neck.

"And you will be here for about two more so I suggest you get some sleep."

"I would like to leave as soon as possible," I tried to push myself up but failed.

Dumbledore stood, preparing to leave. "I am sure you would but if you will give me your confidence, I believe it would be best if the outside world was under the impression you were still in critical condition and thus, couldn't be bothered."

It took me a moment to see the logic of his plan. "Good idea, Professor."

"I'll make sure to let your friends know you are now conscious."

I was going to say thanks but he left a bit too quickly and I was stuck on the word 'friends'. As I mulled over it more, I wondered if he was being smug with me. I got rigid with pride, stiff with confusion and eventually lax when I read the messy scrap of parchment beside my bed: _To Alexandra Marlow- Wake up and stop stalling on my answer. –Draco Malfoy_

"Self centered prick," I muttered before I rolled over and fell asleep.

For the next few weeks I stayed in bed and received my mail directly. I hate my subscription to the Daily Prophet, Wizarding Finance and every other bloody newspaper I receive. I went from front page, to inside article, to half a page on the front, two pages in and I hated it. It was the type of hate that I couldn't let go thus I was reveling in it as I skimmed the pages.

* * *

Over these few weeks it seemed that Madame Pomfery was determined to keep people away, just as I had gained consciousness. I only seemed to have visitors when I was asleep. Bloody conspiracy, I say. But eventually I started leaving notes ready for when I would fall asleep from those medipotions. Notes like, _sod off Malfoy—I'm sick, _and _Find me some cigarettes and I'll think about your offer faster_. I didn't get any kind reassuring notes from Harry which I'll admit, left me a bit sour but I did get my cigarettes. That of course, threw Madame Promphery into an uproar and got stuck with another vile potion instead.

Then one day, when I woke up at some oddball hour, there was somebody sitting on the edge of my bed, reading my latest note to the blonde slytherin. "_Malfoy, I need more cigarettes. _I see you have your priorities." Oh god, the voice was female. I scrambled to turn on a light and saw of all people, Eleanor Baddock at the edge of my bed. Bloody hell, I didn't even know she went to school here anymore.

"Can I help you?" It was near bloody impossible to keep an air of dignity at that moment. My face was discolored, I had mad hair and had just woken up.

"I am here to help you, actually," she spoke softly but without the signature Hufflepuff shyness.

"Oh ho," I was intrigued by anything at this point so I smothered my snappy reply. "And it is?" but some things never change, my tone still came off as snarky.

"I know who tried to kill you."

"Well, thank you for telling me before the Daily Prophet."

"They are disgusting," she said so quickly I was actually surprised. There is always two sides to everything.

"Yes, so it seems." I had been plotting the death of the editor for a week now in my sleep. "But you were saying . . ."

"It was Lucius Malfoy."

"What!" I exclaimed. "That's ridiculous, Lucius wasn't even there." Oh god, how disgusting is that? I just called the father by first name when I address the son by last name. Nasty.

"He isn't the type of man to do is own dirtywork, now is he?"

She was right. "I suppose so," I hissed the words painfully. "Do you know who did it?"

"Someone from your workers union."

"Fuck, I didn't know I was that bloody unpopular."

"You never know was much as you like to think," there was bite on her words the reminded me that she was no ordinary hufflepuff. I decided to go with the flow.

"Alright, say that's true. How do I know you aren't lying or fibbing or have any sort of proof?"

"My father used to work for you."

I laid there, completely and utterly shell-shocked. No! No, that just wasn't so. Charles Baddock had not worked for her father nor had he worked for her. Malcolm would have said something. Charles Baddock has lost his job—Malcolm would have said something. Someone would have said something!

But at the same time it was all so logical. Malcolm and I were distant cousins. Why would Charles Baddock not have a hand in ME if he could? My father would have certainly taken it into account and . . . I just tumbled into a pit of guilt.

"Why are you telling me this? You don't owe me anything . . ."

"Call it karma," and then she was gone, leaving me alone to wrack my brain for something I did to deserve that information.

The next time I woke up, I couldn't decide whether or not Eleanor Baddock had been a hallucination or not. I was for the first time in weeks feeling energized and decided that if I could just get out of the hospital wing fast enough, I would be one step closer to somewhere. I pulled back the covers, swung my legs off the mattress, tiptoed to the door and darted out when Madame Pomfery turned her back. I think she saw me so I tore off in a lopsided run until I was out of the hospital wing entirely.

I ran into somebody on the stairs and fell back onto my butt. I hope it wasn't a teacher or else I was in trouble. It turned out to be Neville.

"You're alright!" he exclaimed.

"Six weeks of rest will do that to you. What happened?" he had a purple eye that was just to hideous to ignore.

"Oh, my wand um. . ."

"Hurry up to the hospital wing then before that festers," my face twisted in pain. Poor boy.

He scurried past me but just before he was completely gone, something occurred to me. "Hey Neville, what's the date today?"

"It's Friday, December…15th, I think."

"Thanks," I said, hurrying off to the dungeons. That meant kids were still in classes and I had a couple hours to collect myself. I was still in pajamas after all.

So I had an idea now of who tried to kill me but what I didn't know was why or what to do about it. I decided that if I just could get a cigarette and Blaise, the pieces would start moving. Of course, in the end they started moving regardless.


	25. Merry Christmas, Mr Potter

Disclaimer: same old same old, I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the support guys! I am starting out this chapter with a much higher moral.

Chapter Nine: Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter

December 15th-Saturday-After Dinner

"So . . . that's a no?"

"Yeah, that's a no, Draco." I was sitting comfortably with my legs crossed confidently in the most regal chair in the entire bloody common room.

"As in a refusal?" the blonde looked as though I had just asked him a NEWTS question in Bulgarian.

"Yes. It is. Ta da!"

"But . . . why?" he didn't sound disappointed as much as offended.

"Because I don't need you to protect me, Draco. I don't need your pity marriage proposal in order to save me from the wrath of Big Bad Lucius Malfoy."

"I don't know where the fuck you come up with these theories," he leaned back into his chair and slapped his hands on his knees. "It's official, you're bloody nutters. Should have left you in that forest with Potter."

"Excuse me?" my memory of feeling so safe on that broom came back to me and I scrunched up my nose. "You flew me out?"

"You? Us! Naturally, Potter stayed behind to take all the glory—prick but better than us staying in there."

I shook my head. "Should have known."

"Have I not stated out the reasons why you are fucking bonkers for not taking my offer. I am being bloody generous here, Marlow! It's not because I love you or anything but—"

"I appreciate you taking care of your own, but I am fucking bonkers, get used to it."

December 16th-Sunday-10 in the morning

I walked out of Snape's office with a smirk. Oh, I hadn't smirked like that in so long. That pleased, controlling, ooey-gooey slytherin smirk. I had a stack of papers in my hand and a meeting at midnight with my lawyer.

I was nearly bouncing up the stairs and through the corridors as my conversation with Blaise last night rippled in my mind. _"You're going to die anorexic and alone with a great deal of cats, Xan. I can smell it."_

_"No, that's you're shirt your smelling. When was the last time you bathed?" he didn't reply. "Exactly. Well, I think that you, Mr. Zabini are never going to get laid after school is over and have to suffer alone."_

_"Oh ho, well I can do one better. You are going to get married Miss Marlow and then fall into a vicious love triangle and eventually stop smoking."_

_"You are going to have a wooden leg!"_

_"You are going to gain muscle mass!"_

_"You will commit bestiality at least once before you die!"_

_"Disgusting! You are going to die poor."_

_"Never!"_

It went something like that but it was the most fun I've had pissed since . . . I have no idea how long. I do think it's a bit unorthodox to get drunk right after getting running away from the hospital wing and then turning down a marriage proposal but hey, seemed good idea at the time.

I came across Neville and Dean in the hallway. They were on their way to meet Seamus out on the pitch. I decided to join them, no big hurry to put these papers in a safe place, I would rather have them on my person anyway.

"So what are your plans for the Christmas holidays?" I posed the question while lighting up a cigarette.

"Just going back to see the family," Seamus replied, polishing up his broom.

Dean was answering but I noticed Neville seemed transfixed by my cigarette. This amused me. "Would you like to try?"

"Huh?" he seemed surprised to be caught so blatantly redhanded. "I-uh, I--"

I shook my head and past him my relatively untouched cigarette. Tobacco virginity is like all other virginities, looks like some sort of Trojan wall and then you touch it and it becomes a picket fence, just another one of those things. Everyone stared at Nevile as he gingerly took the cigarette with more fingers than necessary and put it in between his lips.

"Now breath in halfway—cigarette out—finish the other half of the breathe and—" he ended up coughing up smoke like a chimney despite my instructions.

"Tastes like…like," he smoke was trailing his words, "lead."

"Everyone has a different opinion. Want another hit or are you going to just let it burn down to the filter?"

Neville fumbled and tried again. Somehow, he managed to look even more ridiculous. It reduced the two other boys to giggles and with good reason—it was bloody hilarious. Eventually the cigarette fell filter up into the wet grass. Probably the best for the both of them in this relationship.

"Hey, it's Harry!" Dean's day certainly seemed to brighten up upon seeing his quidditch captain. Mine however plummeted because I realized that I hadn't seen him since I was in half delirious in that cave. My first instinct was to run but I had already been spotted. I know this because he greeted his mates while staring directly at me.

Somewhere in casual conversation, wonderboy's lips got right by my ear. "Would you like to a walk?" You can't refuse that husky whisper of reluctant masculinity, I'm sorry. So we bid the boys adieu and set off around the lake like a couple out of Jane Austen.

"Glad to see you up and out of the hospital wing."

"You never came to see me," oh dear god where did that bitterness come from? I hadn't meant it, honest!

"It was a little difficult seeing as after the Forbidden Forest I was greeted with notes for _Malfoy_."

"Hey! One, I didn't ask you to come after me and two, you don't smoke and thus I couldn't very well leave you a note. Not like you tried the messaging system anyway."

"Yeah I did," he said, choosing to ignore my immature blame-game comment.

"What! I never—that bloody tosser!" I shouted as I realized some little ferret had meddle with my mail while I was unconscious. I quickly turned to Harry because apparently he found it more amusing than infuriating.

"Glad to see you aren't cooing over him."  
"That's disgusting to think about," my expression twisted. "Where'd you get the horrid idea?"

"He is the strangest bloke; one minute he is complaining about you nearly getting killed because he has to thus risk his neck and then he is willing laboring over your wounds."

"I didn't know he was capable of that verb."

"Exactly why I was shocked."

We continued our little walk and talk keeping everything as innocent as could be. "What are your plans for the Christmas holidays?" he asked me. Such a lame conversation starter but I used it twenty minutes ago so there you have it.

"Staying here actually. I would go back but I lack people to go back to."

"What did you do last year? I thought you always stayed here—or went with Malfoy or something . . ." he trailed off as he noticed how bad he sounded.

"I usually spent the holidays with my father figure but uncle figures just don't cut the cake like original y chromosome holder." I had purposefully tired to make it sound all technical and distant. It's hard when you're a kid and you're dad's a horrible guy but you love him anyway because he's your dad and he isn't a horrible guy to you. Then of course it gets harder when you grow up and you know just to what extent your father figure's fallibility goes and you still love him anyway. That type of love that despite all reason refuses to die. Is that true love or just a pain in the ass? You tell me.

"Oh," was all Harry could muster in response. I don't blame him, it wasn't exactly a conversation conducive sentence.

"Fuck, it's cold," I said suddenly. What a way to change the subject! Oh man but only if it weren't true. How did I end up in the snow with just a flimsy jumper?

"Here," Harry pulled of his jumper and handed it too me. It was emerald green with an H on it and oh god, that smell, I recognized it from somewhere.

"Did Weasley make this?" I held it at arm's length. Weasley is Our King making a sweater. I shiver at the thought.

"No, his mother did." I looked at Harry and hastily put on the sweater because I was freezing. At least that is what I told myself but in truth we had just even the score with parental jabs.

"Did you happen to notice that Theodore Nott grew a mustache? It's bloody hideous. How can someone mutilate themselves like that in only what . . . four weeks?"

"Five," Harry corrected.

"Still it should be illegal or something. He should have to get a license."

"Interesting thought," his voice sounded distant and I cursed myself for nothing thinking of a better conversation jerker.

But just when I was in the middle of a very colorful mental sentence, Harry shouted, "Will you go to the Yule ball with me?"

"Are you asking me or that third year boy over there?" he wasn't even looking at me you know. "Having a mental argument with yourself?"

He looked at with wide eyes. "You do it too?"

I lied like a communist. "Only insecure dolts would let their own subconscious start an argument with them."

"So will you go with me?"

"Go where?"

"To the Yule ball?" Harry was hanging onto his nerve with the all that he could.

"Why me and not the Weasley girl?"

"Don't be like that," he had a point. I was totally shitting his proposal. "It's like me asking you why you aren't running off to elope with Malfoy right now." For just a moment, I blanched, scared to death of what he could have heard. It turned out to be an off the collar comment but Harry saw my expression.

"What?" I asked when he proceeded to stare at me.

"What's going on with you two?" he turned his head interrogatively.

"Nothing," I said hastily. My papers feel from my hand and landed with a crunch in the snow. Aha! So I have good timing after all!

"Did you just get that today?" Harry asked horrified as I picked up the stack.

"As a matter of fact, I did," I said running my finger through them quickly. "I missed a lot of work you know."

"That's . . . scary."

"Isn't it just," I said. I was so cold. I think my teeth were chattering because Harry suggested we go inside.

"You haven't answered my question. I haven't forgotten," he folded his arms across his chest as I brushed snow off of my borrowed sweater. I was going to lose it. I swear on my father's grave this was too much pressure. This was all too much but I had to hang on.

"Why do you want to take me?" I directed my question at him harshly.

"Because I like you and I want to spend time with you . . ." he enunciated his words like I was a child.

"Sure it's not because you want to show off how you saved my life and the poor failing CEO of Marlow Enterprises is just another notch on the Boy Who Lived's belt?"

"Do you want it to be like that?" he retorted.

Fuck, it certainly would make my life a hell of a lot simpler. My last inch of restraint was failing and it was so bizarre because, as I stared into his eyes, I could remember a time when I denied myself nothing.

This thinking of course got me into a rather rough situation. I shoved Harry up against the doors and kissed him with enough passion you would think I was trying to win a contest. Harry responded the second he caught up and this only caused me to ravage his lips and mouth even further.

Suddenly, with a loud clang we toppled into the snow. Harry gasped as the wind was knocked out of him by well, my body weight. I stared down at him as he sucked in air and it finally occurred to me to climb off of him. As this occurred to him, I realized what I had just done and I bolted.

"Is that a yes?" he called half-dazed.

I was in too much of a hurry to think of something wittier than, "Yes!"

December 16th—Just After Dinner

"You know I can't decide whether I find it cute or disgusting that Potter asked you to the Yule Ball," Blaise threw one of the two empty suitcases he was carrying onto my bed.

"Do elaborate," I said sarcastically through the filter of a cigarette. I balanced on one foot to grab a sweater from the top shelf of the closet where I had stashed all my stuff.

"Do you remember that last ball you went to him with? Do you remember how it all came about? Bloody fuck, how can you even look at him now? Much less practice quidditch with him back in September but honestly—hey, pass me a fag."

I did so and shoved a pair of pants along with the sweater (better looking than the Weasley one) into the suitcase. "Because I look at him, Blaise and don't see at that. I see—"

"Gryffindor prat?"

"I was going to say a bloke with good lips."

"I don't get it! You say one thing and do another. You are a smoking oxymoron right now!"

"And you aren't?"

"I'm being honest because it's simpler. I think—" he stopped handling his clothes and looked at me. "You like it. It just hit me. You like lying. You like living in two worlds at the same time. You bloody enjoy it you sodding masochist!"

I plucked my cigarette out of my mouth and shrugged my shoulders at him. "Fine, you've caught me. I'm a masochist, self-destructive and I love it. Whoopdedoo, it's analyze Marlow Day!"

"And your still going through with this? I thought you were the rational one."

"I wouldn't have agreed if I wasn't. I am quite rational, Blaise and I know this is it. This is the one window of opportunity I have, that we have."

"You make it sound like we're eloping."

"Well we are, aren't we . . . in a way?"

"That's disgusting, Marlow."

December 18th—Tuesday--After classes

"You are such a dull shopper for someone with heaps of galleons," Moon said as she lead us into another dress shop. It was the week before you and everything was open. Of course, the reason for this theoretically being it would help students prepare for exams by having access to all the materials they could possibly need. This had to have been a hufflepuff idea because it was just so naïve.

"I thought you had enough dresses, why do you need another just for Teddy."

"It's not for Nott it's for myself!"

Alright so Morgan Moon was in denial about having the hots for Theodore Nott but what do you expect? I am surprised they even got within two meters of one another before their blazing testosterone sent up a red flag. But no, somehow the two quidditch beasts and self consumed slytherins ended up going to the Yule ball together. I dare say they might have even kissed once. It's fascinating sociology.

I was lagging behind moon and eyes some cobalt blue robes until she shouted for my opinion on something. She was holding up gold vs. maroon. Our best chaser really must be getting sick if she is trying to pick between Gryffindor colors. I noticed a very nice looking set of emerald robes to the side but with my skin it wouldn't look very flattering. Hey, those crimson ones do look nice.

"Do you know what color robes Nott's wearing?" Moon called over to me from another aisle.

"Black, like he _always _wears."

"Well, you know it would be just like him to change his habit at the last minute!"

This was getting gross but gave me just enough time to check to see if a set of ice blue robes were in my size.

December 22nd—Saturday—Before the Ball

I had expected this past week to be ridiculously awkward after my not-so-smooth acceptance kiss. In fact, I haven't much had the chance to talk to him accept when he jumped me in the corridor asking what color dress I was wearing of all things. Honestly, I was expecting something like throwing me up against the wall and kissing me senseless. But colors? So feminine.

But then again, who am I to be talking? I have my face pressed up against the mirror as I try to put my makeup on. It's a disaster in my opinion.

"You know some people get into their dress robes before applying their face," Draco drawled, leaning against the doorway.

"And how can I be of service, your highness?"

"Who are you dolling yourself up for?"

"Take a guess."

"Zabini?"

"Ew."

"You two have been awfully cozy all week."

"Ew."

"If you turned me down for him that's a tragedy."

"Can you get anymore disgusting?"

"Then seriously who?"

"Harry Potter."

"Now you're the disgusting one."

I looked over at him directly. His calmness was impressive. "That's alright with this, prince of darkness?"

"What do you expect me to do? Confess my undying love for you and demand you go to the ball with me?" I was silent. It would have been a nice compliment . . . "Besides, my date is much better looking than you and there are oh so many opportunities to twist Potter's nipples with this."

I shook my head and turned back to the mirror. What did I expect? Perhaps I take myself too seriously. I shooed Draco out of the room and got into my dress robes. I then accompanied Moon to the Great Hall who seemed too eager to wring Teddy's neck for being three minutes late, rather than bother with who I could possibly be waiting for.

I was just standing there at the base of the staircase waiting for Harry and I couldn't have been more humiliated when Draco and his date passed. She was a gorgeous sixth year and wasn't easy.

Draco left her side for a moment. "He stood you up," he whispered in my ear a bit too happily.

"You wish. Run along now, enjoy your godliness before you have to get an actually earn your fortune."

"Your insults really are getting sloppy when you start comparing me to yourself."

"Sod off," I snarled but he was already gone.

Blaise passed, looking particularly dark and handsome, with Daphne. I sneered at her back. I was a bit jealous because here I was, waiting like an idiot. Stupid cow. I hope she gets syphilis—not from Blaise though because that would be depressing. I often forget how good looking he actually is. Such is the curse of knowing a boy well.

I turned back to the stairs, waiting for wonderboy to make his arrival. I was even more irritated when I saw Granger and Weasley come down. I haven't talked to either of them in so long. Not that I want to talk to those Gryffindor prats but when Granger came over to me, I kind of had to.

"Good to see you finally in good health."

"You're a bad liar, Granger."

"If Harry likes you well enough to ask you to the Yule ball then I won't patronize you but then again, you would be dead if it wasn't for him."

"If I recall correctly, Draco was there as well."

She obviously had a snappy retort to that but held her tongue. "There's no arguing with you. I just am the messenger. Harry can't come down. You have to go up to Gryffindor tower. Have a nice night." Then she just left me standing there. Stupid mudblood.

After the first flight of stairs, I received hard evidence that my shoes were not conducive to this much walking. So I took them off and proceeded at a much faster pace. I was getting irritated with every flight and wanted to wring Harry's neck for standing me up.

Suddenly, just as I was turning to go up yet another staircase, someone whistled. I stopped and looked around. "Over here," someone said. I whipped around and saw wonderboy leaning against the wall. An amused expression played across his features.

I folded my arms across my chest. "The Yule Ball is downstairs, you know."

"You look lovely," he said with surprising smoothness.

I looked him up and down, my anger subsiding. "If you were going to wear black then why bother asking the color of my dress robes?"

"For this," he pulled out from his pocket a white corsage. I was silenced. It was gorgeous. He had a bit of trouble pinning it on but I didn't notice.

"It's . . . beautiful," I murmured.

"I went to a florist," Harry's voice perked up.

"All by yourself? Big accomplishment," I teased.

"Well if you are going to be like that," he plucked me with the pin. I jerked and smacked him. Not hard, mind you.

"But seriously Harry," I continued once he took a step back. "Why the stairs?"

"I thought it would give us a little privacy before you know . . ."

"Why do you make it sound so serious?" I asked looking from side to side.

"I'm being sensitive to your feminine nature," Harry said in a textbook tone. I looked at him sharply and he wore an amused grin.

"Is that sarcasm?" I questioned.

"Maybe . . ." he teased.

"Oh because I'll show you feminine nature," I snatched him by the collar and kissed him passionately. Great, I was being spontaneous but then, just as he starts to give something back to the kiss, the staircase started to move. This was a severe problem for me because I had one heel on that staircase and balance wasn't on my side.

Long story short, I went down the staircase in the most ungraceful, pitiful tumble ever to be seen by portraits or Harry Potter for that matter. I flopped at the bottom of the staircase with limbs scattered and my head bent awkwardly. I felt like a bloody rag doll. Though shocked at my own humiliation, I began to pull myself up.

Harry was standing and the top of where the staircase had connected, mouth ajar and eyes wide. We were separated now and I tried to dust myself off.

However, my task of putting myself back together was quickly annulled when I realized that it was pointless. "Go ahead and laugh," I surrendered. My generous offer only received a few hiccups of hidden amusement.

"So . . ." Harry said. "What do you propose we do?"

"You're stuck on the third floor. I am going to go find a date on my own floor."

"Not with your hair looking like that you aren't."

"I'll find an unconditional love."

"People will run in fear."

"You're still talking to me."

"I am special."

"Obviously."

"Come up here," Harry said.

"The ball is this way. Technically, I am closer. It would be counterproductive for me to go to you and then just come back."

"Ah but the room of requirement is this way."

A smile crept onto my lips try as I might to keep it away. "Why, Mister Potter, isn't it a bit early in the evening for that?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Xandra, I just have a surprise." The staircase started to move back to connect us.

"In your pants," I muttered.

"Heard that!" his voice could be heard just barely above the stone. Once the staircase had finished moving, I had a clear view of Harry with his hand outstretched to me. "Come on."

Why fight it? I gave in completely.

I was shocked to discover that the room of requirement was indeed available on such a, how should I say, desired eve? Music was playing, there were candles and everything felt just so warm. I took his hands and started to glide across the marble floor in our own personal ballroom.

"I'd forgotten you could dance so well," I murmured. Actually, later I was to recall that I had thought he couldn't dance the last time we were engaged but at the moment his lead felt so perfect.

"Yeah, it's been a while."

"When did you learn?"

"Back during the triwizard's tournament, I was under pressure. I guess it stuck."

"That was an odd year."

"Where were you that year?"

"Plotting your demise like every other sane person," I said nonchalantly. "No, actually I was just around."

"Evil ways and all that?"

"Why not?"

My head was leaning on his shoulder but my mind was far and gone. Well, gone is a debatable word. Perhaps this was a state of being without pride, preconceptions, or logic. Was that love?

How we started kissing I don't remember but animal instincts reside in all of us. If you want to follow that line of thought anyway. Please keep in mind though, my line of thought I present to you now is just a reconstruction after many a sleepless night.

I have never thought of myself as a sensitive person, even to this day. But the way Harry raked his finger across my skin touched a nerve in my mind that had never before been awaken. The way I kissed him, bloody hell the way I went savage on him was unthinkable prior. I was expressing my needs without guilt or entitlement and I was giving too. We were both giving.

Even with all my thinking and analyzing and educated guesses, so many details are left without that time and space we shared together. Those details are purely ours and thus I can't tell you what they are, even if I wanted to. The problem with moments like that, is because since they belong only to that moment in time, the memory of them is never clear.

But he was good to me, dear reader and I tried to be good to him. Because you see, this was love. Not the type of love that grows over time, comes at first sight or is wooed with modern dating; but it was love like a lottery—either random or fated. It's not planned, it doesn't hit you over the head when you wake up in the morning, it's about certain things out of the big bag of everything matching up with others. The problem with this kind of love (and there are always problems) is that it _is _a bit of an accident (fated or not) and as with all accidents, there were other things in place.

It was these other things that woke me from my peaceful sleep in Harry's arms. These other things that had me finish my suitcase, release my owl and rip the slytherin badge off my robes for good.

Sunday afternoon the train was leaving Hogwarts for Christmas vacation. I hadn't any desire to see Harry after Yule. I wanted that to be the last image of him I held onto. But it didn't exactly work out that way. I ended up on searching my dorm room for a ribbon and going down to the platform, careful to hide in the crowd naturally.

I found my Harry easily—wait, did I just say _my _Harry? Well, whatever. I found _the _Harry quite easily. He was standing with Weasley and Granger along with Weaslyette and the usual suspects. This was going to take courage, I thought. But this was it so as you can see I had little choice.

I approached him confidently, focusing solely on Harry. I soaked up his awkward greeting, reminding myself to enjoy it later and presenting him with a small (but not too small) box which was wrapped carefully with a lopsided bow.

"Merry Christmas, Potter." I tried to sound indifferent because inside that box was in fact the most personal thing I owned. I didn't have to have eyes in the back of my head to see the dumbfounded Gryffindor expression on their faces, or Harry tucking the box nervously into his stuff.

A while later, Harry Potter ducked into the baggage car, finally having a minute to himself. He finally felt confident enough, and truly focused enough, to open the intimate gift. He had no idea what it could be.

He pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. A piece of paper was staring up at him. It read:

_Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter_

_I hope you are alone when you see this or else I would feel foolish_

_But I don't take you for dense, at least not in this realm._

_You truly are the boy wonder, even if you would like to think otherwise_

_You deserve it too; after all you have done for a slytherin like me_

_This isn't going to be sappy, because I am not like that and I am sure you aren't surprised_

_But think of this as the closest thing to a goodbye I could muster_

_Sincerely,_

_Alexandra H. Marlow_

Harry wasn't sure what to think from that note, written out in the best of handwriting. He flipped it over, in case he missed something. Then he looked down into the bottom of the box and there it was.

Glaring up at him, timeworn and honest was her slytherin badge.

December 25th—Very, very late

"Good Christ, hurry up, Blaise!" I hissed from under my cloak. It was the dead of night and slytherin was deserted. Blaise was busy checking everything twice and I was in a hurry to just get out of the castle and down to hogsmeade.

Theo and Draco came down into the common room carrying one suitcase each and Blaise eventually followed. With his dark skin you could hardly see anything except for the shimmer of his eyes whereas I wore a cloak two sizes large so as to hide my fulgent white skin. The two others however, were in their normal clothes. They weren't coming.

"You both are bloody nutters," Theo said in a sing song voice.

"I love you too, Teddy," I said sarcastically, taking my suitcase and carefully exiting the portal. The three others followed and we all tiptoed down the corridor, not saying a word.

Outside it was snowing and our feet were enveloped in white up to our ankles. Surprisingly, no one complained. In fact, the first word was spoken 50 meters later. "So where are you planning to go?"

"It's a secret," I replied in a monotone.

"We actually don't know yet," Blaise replied more honestly. I suppose he was right, this wasn't a time for lies.

"You're bloody bonkers," Theo muttered.

"You've already made yourself clear, _Teddy_." I snapped.

"Well when your bodies are found floating in a pond all blue and discolored, half eaten by Japanese carp, I will say I told you so."

"Charming image," Draco said.

We stopped when we reached the edge of Hogwarts grounds, the ridge just before the descent into Hogsmeade. Turning to each other, a rough tension tugged at our chests. "Why?" Teddy asked. His harsh features and leather skin were softer than I ever remembered.

"Because," Blaise replied. "We want to."

"Could you stop saying 'we'," Draco asked in a snooty tone. "You sound like you're married. Please don't make that a reality, by the way."

"Wouldn't that just twist your knickers," I smirked.

"You know my offer still stands Marlow, if you ever come to your senses." He turned to Blaise and shook his hand in a male way that I can't really describe. "What on earth are you planning to do with your inheritance? You're only sixteen."

Blaise smirked. "I am seventeen, Malfoy. My parents aren't like yours."

He was surprised and it showed. When he realized this, Draco's turned nasty. "Just get out of here you two bloody traitors." He sneered, the opposite of the serenity between us all just minutes before. "What's that?" he snapped, pointing at the fatty envelope in my hand.

I brought it up from my side. "My inheritance has been condensed to traveling size." My ownership of Marlow Enterprises was entirely in my right hand and no one but these blokes, a lawyer and a potions professor knew about it.

"Sure you don't want to come, Theo?" Blaise proposed once again.

"No," he said with a snort. "I am perfectly happy being rich, not working and living in the lap of luxury. Oh and let's not forget _getting laid_."

I shrugged. "Have it your way then." Blaise and I descended down the snowy slope and into the cold night of Yule.

Once the snow had engulfed us, Draco drew in a deep breathe through the nose. "I want some cake."

"I want a cigarette, firewhiskey and some arse."

Draco smacked him hard. "Not on my Quidditch team! Gryffindor will not win the cup this year."

Theo rolled his eyes, "Merry fucking Christmas to you too."

THE END

Author's Note: Don't fret, I have an epilogue on the way!


	26. A Letter Without Origin

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's that simple.

Epilogue I (of II)

_Dear Harry, _

_Congratulations on graduation. I am sure you'll be off to Auror training and fulfilling your destiny as one of the greatest wizards who has ever lived. Oh and please don't try to trace this letter. You should know that I've taken ever precaution and doing so wouldn't amount to much. I wrote this letter because you deserve answers after all the questions you've had thrown at you._

_I appreciate you trying to protect my reputation (especially after they hauled you in as a suspect in my 'disappearance') but the Daily Prophet is going to write their trash no matter what anyone says. I rather like my fourth cousin, Tiberius, so I don't mind that he has taken over M.E. The fact that the business world is of the opinion that I am deceased actually works out well for me. I didn't disappear into the night just so they could find me. _

_If you haven't figured out why I left without saying anything, well then you are denser than I thought. It was you after all, Harry, who showed me there was more to life than what old men demand from me. However, I would like you to know that I spent the last few months hating you because there is a reason the road less traveled is less traveled; There are a great deal of stones. I can't elaborate for I don't want you to try to piece together my location. Actually, now that the hard winter is over, I am rather enjoying my new lifestyle. Rest assured that I am keeping myself entertained. Business, boys and adventure have proved to be unavoidable. Again, forgive the lack of details; it's best for the both of us. _

_Thank you for acknowledging the unlikelihood that I eloped with Blaise (because I didn't) even though no one believed you. That is understandable because it's quite a logical conclusion but so far there are no rings on my fingers. You however, I envision being snatched up the second you step off Hogwarts grounds. Hope she is more deserving of your charms than I. _

_I think about you often wonderboy (willing or unwillingly). So take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid. I imagine that we shall meet again, though I don't know when but worry not, I'll handle all that. _

_Yours Truly,_

_Alexandra H. Marlow_

_PS—Believe it or not, all of that stupid quidditch actually prepared me for my current métier. _

Author's Note: I have one more little epilogue on the way that is the lead into the possible sequel. In the last chapters I put some foreshadow so if you read those chapters carefully, you can probably figure out a little bit about what she is up to, though I admit it takes a bit of imagination. I'll have a much more conclusive note at the end of the next epilogue.


	27. Back to My Evil Ways

Disclaimer: Yeah, totally don't own HP

Epilogue II (of II)

Well fuck me, he wasn't lying! These really are fabulous seats. I am at the quidditch world cup in old London town, Iceland vs. England. I didn't dare leave the box after we had apparated because I didn't want to succumb to the temptation around me. I came here, watched the game and then back to work.

I checked my watch. Blaise and ship should be arriving in Istanbul right about now. God, it will be good to see him tomorrow. He and the crew were shipping Ukrainian thickbacks to Morocco, last time I saw him. Of course, I didn't see him in Ukraine or in Morocco, but in our headquarters on the Romanian coast.

_I glanced in the cabin mirror while brushing my hair. Blaise was having trouble getting on his trousers. "You look terribly dignified, Captain," I remarked. _

_"My crew is supposed to be working on deck, not brushing their hair!"_

_"Your predecessor never minded when I took care in my appearance." _

_"That's because he was a horny old bastard and you were the only female on the ship."_

_"I am still the only female on the ship!"_

_"And yet I am putting you on land."_

_I put down the brush and tied up my hair. "You aren't making any bloody sense, Capitan."_

_Blaise turned to me. "Say that again."_

_"Captain . . ." I repeated, looking from side to side uneasily. _

_"Damn right I'm Captain!" he shouted, picking me up and swinging me around in a burst of happiness._

_I screamed, which caused a smile to break out on his usually composed features. "Thank you, Xan." _

_"What did I do? The old custard had a heart attack all on his own!"_

_He just smiled at me, pride radiating off him like heat. "I am nothing without you, my pretty." He spoke like a true pirate captain rather than a merchant seaman. _

_"Then my, Captain, are you putting me on shore?"_

Good long time ago that was. Well, a year or so, but I judge time by how much that happens. Things were different onshore, not to say that since Blaise and I got into the dragon trade we stayed forever on a ship. Not at all, but I became the head of all land operations which included, business affaires (my specialty) and a great deal of fieldwork (nasty surprise that was).

My reflection changed quite a bit since I came on land (though it changed a great deal since the last time we spoke, my friends). My hair got darker, as did my skin (after the months of consistent burn), my hands scared from dragon burns over the calluses (that developed aboard the ship) and I wore dragon hide for functional purposes (something I never thought would happen).

"Alex, I brought you a drink," Charlie pulled me out my thoughts as he came back into our box.

"Thanks," I said. I have also developed a taste for strong alcohol. They don't have much else in Romania.

Charlie is bloody gorgeous. There is no other way to describe it. He's strong, well-built, red hair that actually looks good with his freckles. I didn't want to find him gorgeous. In fact, I found it absolutely infuriating when he stomped into my office in his boots, claiming to be representing the Romanian trainers and wanted to know all my business. I was ready to argue but he wasn't going to be swayed by the silver tongue of a woman younger than him. So we argued and boy did it take a while. In the end, I showed up the papers he wanted. On my first day in the field he showed me how to not make a fool of myself (the last thing the boss needs is someone under them in the hierarchy showing them the ropes). Let's just say, our relationship progressed over time. Oh I know he's a Weasley but he doesn't know I was a slytherin. In fact he doesn't know a lot of things about me; such as my complex relationship with cigarettes or my old nickname or my old life for that matter.

"I have to remember to thank Ron and Harry when I see them," Charlie said, looking over the railing as the announcer started to speak. "These really are fabulous seats."

"I can't believe your brother knows _the_ Harry Potter," I said, sipping my drink.

"Are you sure you can't stay? You would love my family. They're a little hard to handle at first but they would love you. Really! You could even meet Harry Potter if you want."

"Charlie, you're family would get the completely wrong idea. Besides, I am swamped! The Moldavian breeding ground I bought is a mess! I will be spending all of next month there."

"You work too hard, Alex," he leaned over and ruffled my hair with his large hands.

So what if the name Alex feels new. He sometimes calls me Alexandra. It would be weird if he called me Xan or Xandra or Marlow. Our relationship is fine. No, it isn't wedding bells and gleaming truth but he makes me happy. Sure, I can't say for certain that I won't tire of him but for now, I am happy.

"And here they come folks! England in blue!" the announcer called out the names of the English team but of course, I was only paying attention to one: Harry Potter.

He looks great. Exactly the same as I imagine him. I was a bit surprised when he went into pro quidditch but I suppose it suits him. He maintains his fame better than he would if he was an auror. I like him better this way because he is more like a dream than a person. He hovers yards away from me but yet he is in another world. He looked at me but I am sure it was just by chance. He couldn't recognize me. I don't even recognize me! To be honest, I have forgotten so many details about him than I don't even recall now. It's better that way, I am sure.

I don't need Harry Potter, no matter what your definition of love. I have enough love and I don't need glaring truth to make me happy. There are men in my life who make me happy and Harry-Potter-not-in-my-thoughts is one of them.

I pulled out a package of cigarettes only to have Charlie pluck them out of my hand.

"This is nonsmoking, Alex."

"Make me," I said with a devious smile.

"After the game, love," he said with a wink.

I sighed and looked down at my fingers wrapped around the base of my glass. It really was a gorgeous ring; simple enough to go with everything and not cause alarm but brilliant all the same. I wonder if Charlie will notice that I didn't pack clothes for Moldavian weather.

(_They say I gotta change my evil ways  
And I'm workin hard at it every day but  
No matter what i do  
I seem to make the same mistakes that I'm tryin not to  
If love is just a game that people play  
And practice make perfect is what they say but  
No matter what I do  
I seem to make the same mistakes that I'm tryin not to)_

The End

Author's Note: Well there it is, the end to Wonderboy. Just who gave her that ring is the question. Just chew on that for a while and come to your own conclusion. I am seriously considering doing a sequel but not sure exactly what time I will get it up (soon, I hope). The lyrics belong to Gym Class Heroes. It really is weird ending this, especially when I look back at some of the first chapters. I thank everyone for their support and I had a great time writing this. Until next time, go slytherin!


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